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Table of Contents

CONTENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AUTHOR'S NOTE
FOREWORD

Chapter 1: AFRICA SHALL BE SAVED!

Escape From Danger
Preaching to the Trees
Chapter 2: LESSONS IN FAITH
Chapter 3: GOD'S FAITHFULNESS
Blanket of Death
Chariot of Fire

A Modern Elijah-Baal Encounter
Chapter 4: A MILLION SOULS
A Momentous Year
Botswana Breakthrough
A Dream of Mass Evangelism Fulfilled
The Baptism of the Holy Spirit
Soweto Township: Lazarus at the Rich Man's Door
Chapter 5: A "NURSE" FOR THE GREAT PHYSICIAN
A Mission at the Gates of Hell
Plan Like a Millionaire
Signs and Wonders Continue in 1977
Altar Call, Not Protocol
Chapter 6: FAITH FRIGHTENS SATAN
Faith and Fear Fight a Deadly Duel
Satan on Crutches

A Spiritual Desert Where Witchcraft Ruled
Can Jesus Heal a Broken Heart?

Chapter 7: THE DAY OF THE COMBINE
The Soweto Witchdoctor
"I Will Give You a Sign"

A Visit to South Korea
Chapter 8: THE BIG TENT TAKES SHAPE
Meetings on Four Continents
The Big Tent Is Tested

The American Connection Forged
Despotism Cannot Destroy Christianity
A Hunger for Spiritual Things
Chapter 9: THE WINDS OF WRATH
Victory in Calcutta
Disaster in Cape Town
Encouragement From the Lord
Chapter 10: A CANOPY OF GOD'S GLORY
The Vision Is Raised to a Higher Level
Harare Breakthrough
A Brush With Death

Chapter 11: THE IRON GATES OF ISLAM
Winning Australian Hearts
Return to Zambia

Chapter 12: ON THE ROAD TO ZAIRE
The Crusade Begins

Chapter 13: TEARS OF JOY, TEARS OF SORROW
Comfort in the Middle of Distress
Chapter 14: A CALL FROM THE EAST
Easter in London
"Bonnke Shakes Perth"

A Visit to Singapore
The United Charismatic Convention
Chapter 15: RACISM CHALLENGED
Nine Glorious Days
A Strain on Resources
To Sell or Not to Sell
Chapter 16: FIRE ACROSS AFRICA
The New Big Tent

Plundering Hell to Populate

Heaven:

The Reinhard Bonnke Story

A DOVE Christian Book by Ron Steele

Plundering Hell to Populate

Heaven:

The Reinhard Bonnke Story
by Ron Steele

DOVE

Christian Books

Melbourne, Florida

Unless otherwise indicated, an Scripture quotations are taken from the King James
Version ofthe Bible. Other quotations are from The Living Bible (TLB) copyright ©1971
by Tyndale House Publishers, Wheaton Illinois, and from The Holy Bible. New
International Version (NIV), copyright ©1978 by the International Bide Society and used
by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers
© 1987 1988 by Reinhard Bonnke Ministries
P. O. Box 3851 Laguna Hills CA 92654-9952
ISBN 0-88144-091-4 Production by
Publications Technologies
Eau Gallie, Florida

Printed in the United Stales of America
Published by DOVE Christian Books,

P. O. Box 36-0122, Melbourne, FL 32936 Melbourne. Florida

CONTENTS

About the Author
Author's Note
Foreword

1 Africa Shall Be Saved

2 Lessons in Faith

3 God's Faithfulness

4 A Million Souls

5 A "Nurse" for the Great Physician

6 Faith Frightens Satan

7 The Day of the Combine

8 The Big Tent Takes Shape

9 The Winds of Wrath

10 A Canopy of God's Glory

11 The Iron Gates of Islam

12 On the Road to Zaire

13 Tears of Joy Tears of Sorrow

14 A Call From the East

is Racism Challenged

Fire Across Africa

16

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ron Steele, 47, has been a professional journalist in southern
Africa for 29 years.

He also has been a pastor in Lusaka, Zambia, where he
gained experience as a newscaster on Zambia Television.

For the past five years, he has worked with some of the
major Christian ministries in South Africa. He was associated
with Reinhard Bonnke for four years, working as his public
relations and publicity agent.

AUTHOR' S NOTE

This book is the welding together of two books. Plundering
Hell , which was published in February 1984, and Populating
Heaven , which was released in November 1986. Neither book
was published in America. It was then decided to edit them and
combine them into one complete story for release in the United
States of America.

Assisting in this task has been Connie Blackwell of Media
Consultants, who read through both books and then set about
the job of merging the two titles.

The purpose of the book is not to exalt any man but to exalt
the Lord Jesus Christ and to challenge Christians to walk in
bold, new dimensions of faith.

In addition to Connie Blackwell's contribution, I wish to
thank Reinhard Bonnke for the opportunity to write this book
and for making available to me tape recordings, documents,
and back issues of Revival Report magazine. Also, to the
Bonnke Ministries' general manager, Peter Vandenberg, and
the many members of the team: You have all contributed to this
book.

Finally, the dedication of the book is to the Man Who died for
me — Jesus Christ.

Ron Steele

Johannesburg, South Africa
February 1987

FOREWORD

Reinhard Bonnke is one of the most outstanding missionaries
in our world today. He has a vision for Africa that is an
inspiration to all who hear it, and his effectiveness in
ministering to hundreds of thousands on that continent is
setting an example for the entire Christian church.

It has been our pleasure at CBN to give wholehearted
support both spiritually and financially to Reinhard Bonnke 's
work. This account of his incredible ministry will read like
something out of the Book of Acts. The only difference is the
magnitude of the numbers of people involved probably exceeds
anything that we have known in ancient or modern history.

I commend for your reading pleasure PLUNDERING HELL
TO POPULATE HEAVEN.

Pat Robertson

Chapter 1: AFRICA SHALL BE SAVED!

I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

Matthew 16:18

Africa has been known for years as the Dark Continent.
Today it is also being called the Dying Continent.

Famine and disease, including the modern-day plague of
AIDS, are torturing countless numbers of the five hundred
million people who live on the continent.

Several of the fifty-three independent nations of the
continent are in a state of civil war or some internal political
upheaval.

In the past, Africa has experienced the imperial might of
Portugal, France, and Britain. Today it is a continent free of
those old empires. Imperialism has been replaced by bloody
dictatorships, one-party political systems and other variations
on democracy, and, of course, a sinister mixture of socialism
and Godless Marxism.

Despite its savage beauty of thundering waterfalls, surging
rivers, tropical jungles, and savanna grasslands, Africa's future
is bleak, if not desperate.

Poverty and death haunt the continent, but against this
gaunt background comes a cry: "Africa shall be saved!" Not by
big business. Not by grandiose food aid plans. Not by some
political genius. No, nor by might nor power, but by My Spirit,
saith the Lord (Zech. 4:6).

The man proclaiming this message of hope is West German
evangelist Reinhard Bonnke, who believes he has been given a
divine challenge to preach the Gospel from Cape Town to
Cairo, from south to north, from east to west, across the nigged
continent of Africa.

Ever since he set foot on the Dark Continent, in May 1967,
Reinhard has been consumed by a holy flame. Yet, when he and
his pregnant wife, Anni, and seven-month-old son Freddy came
down the gangplank at Durban harbor, he had little idea of the
saga that was to unfold.

If he had, the 27-year-old Reinhard may well have

shepherded his young family back aboard the ship and
disappeared into the backwaters of northern Germany to live
out the relatively sedate life of a pastor.

Reinhard Bonnke did not come to southern Africa as a novice
preacher, however. He had ministered in Germany as both a
pastor and evangelist before becoming a missionary.

That first day off the ship, he was wondering whether his
boyhood dreams would be fulfilled. There was no denying the
supernatural signposts that God had planted along the pathway
on which He had set Bonnke 's feet years ago as a lad in war-
torn Europe.

Escape From Danger

Reinhard's father served with the Wehrmacht during World
War II. The family, consisting of his mother, four brothers, a
sister, and Reinhard lived in Konigsberg, capital of East
Prussia. In 1945, it was a town of ruins as streams of German
troops and vehicles fell back in retreat from the Eastern Front
and Russian forces advanced. Russian planes constantly flew
overhead bombing the retreating forces and civilians alike.
Only five years old, Reinhard vividly remembers the sounds of
war, such as the post office building down the road from their
home receiving a direct hit.

Mrs. Bonnke, a dedicated Christian, had believed the family
would be safe at home, but some German soldiers persuaded
her to take the children and leave when the town seemed to
have been set ablaze. It was the beginning of a nightmare
journey, but also a miraculous one. That winter's night as she
gathered the family together to flee, flames leaped skyward
from bursting shells and burning buildings. With each child
carrying a bundle of personal belongings, the mother led her
precious brood out of their home and down to the main road.

Although it was a bewildering experience, Reinhard does not
recall being afraid. Instead, their journey in the midst of noise
and confusion seemed like some exciting adventure. As the
heavily laden army vehicles trundled past, Mrs. Bonnke waved
her arms, desperately trying to get one of the trucks to stop
and give them a ride. At last, as the little group huddled
together for comfort, a truck did stop. A voice yelled from the
cab that there was only room for three, but Mrs. Bonnke
ignored the voice and kept lifting children up into the back
until all were in — then she squeezed in as well.

The vehicle was old, creaky, and wood-fired. As the driver
jerked through the gears, they moved off down the road.
Reinhard saw the brightness of flares being dropped by enemy
planes through the darkness, but he was so exhausted that he
fell asleep in the arms of one of the soldiers.

When morning came, everyone was cold, dirty, and hungry.
Nerves were raw as Russian fighters strafed the snaking line of

trucks fleeing the advancing enemy troops, and bombs gouged
ugly craters in the road along their route. The roadside already
was dotted with the grotesque sight of dead bodies. Night and
day the smell of death was present, and Reinhard's young mind
was assaulted by the sights and smells.

When they could ride no farther on the army vehicle, the
Bonnkes took to the road on foot. They trudged for several days
before managing to get another ride. During this time, they
survived on a few meagre slices of bread and, at night, sought
shelter with others at deserted farmhouses. The escape route
led across the Haff Sea and, in the late winter weather, ice was
beginning to melt. The crossing was particularly treacherous
with vehicles often axle deep in melting ice, a comparatively
thin cover over the deep, freezing waters surging beneath.
Only days after the family made it across the sea, Russian
planes bombed the ice, and thousands of soldiers and civilian
refugees lost their lives in the icy waters.

Bedraggled and weary but still together, the mother and six
children eventually reached the port of Danzig (Gdansk today),
which was filled with refugees from the immediate battle
zones. The only way of escape was across the Baltic Sea. In
Danzig, however, there was family — an aunt and Mrs.
Bonnke's devout Christian mother. With thousands of others,
they waited prayerfully for a ship on which to embark for
Denmark and safety. Once they wistfully watched a ship, the
Gustlov, steam out of the harbor crammed with eight thousand
women and children. Two days later, however, they heard that
the ship had struck a mine, and only two hundred people
survived.

Air raids increased, and the Russian forces were drawing
nearer when the Bonnkes finally got a berth on an ancient coal
steamer. Before they sailed, the mother and grandmother
gathered them together and read Isaiah 43:16: Thus saith the
Lord, which maketh a way in the sea, and a path in the mighty
waters. This Scripture gave them all great comfort, and
Reinhard still remembers how moved his mother and
grandmother were and how they knelt in prayer and committed

themselves and the children to the Lord.

The morning they were to board the ship, the gangway was a
seething mass of human bodies, pressing and shoving to get
aboard. Air raid sirens shrieked warnings, and they wondered
if they would ever actually get aboard. Eventually, however,
they arrived safely below deck, and the ship steamed sluggishly
out into the Baltic on the start of another ordeal and another
example of the providence of God. They were attacked several
times from the air as the ship plowed through the rough wind-
ruffled waves. One incident is still etched plainly in Reinhard's
mind. He had just clambered up a rusty ladder to get to the
sanitary facilities on deck, and he watched in awe as a Russian
plane wreathed in flames plunged into the sea, a victim of the
steamer's anti-aircraft guns.

Conditions were cramped with everyone herded together
beneath the decks. There was no privacy, of course, and people
were sick. Their moans and groans filled the air day and night.
The food, even for those well enough to eat, was poor. There
were very few smiles and little to ease the tension. Then, one
afternoon, things got worse: the ship struck a mine. It
shuddered and pitched violently as if the steel-plated sides
were being ripped apart. The vessel then developed a heavy list
to one side, and fear gripped the refugees who clung to one
another almost hopelessly in the darkness and dampness below
decks.

Mrs. Bonnke held onto the Word of God that she had read
before leaving Danzig and comforted the children. Suddenly,
the ship began to right itself, and some of the crew told them
that pumps were beginning to cope with the flood of water
pouring in below them in the hold. More than forty years later,
Reinhard can still close his eyes, cast his mind back to that
voyage, and hear those pumps clattering away night and day
during the rest of the trip. To those on board, the clattering
pumps made the most heavenly symphony as, it seemed
miraculously, the ship stayed afloat. Before long, a cheer of
relief went up from the crew and the tear-stained travelers as
the coast of Denmark came into view. They were safe at last —

the Lord had truly made a path in the waters.

The Bonnke family was safe, but the children had to wait
three and one-half years before being reunited with their
father. He also was a Christian, having been converted after
being healed of tuberculosis as a young soldier. Later, he began
attending the local church and married the organist, who
became Reinhard's mother. By 1945, the elder Bonnke was an
officer. Shortly after the family reached Denmark, he arrived in
Danzig with other senior military men. There was a lone
minesweeper in the harbor with a limited number of available
births. When the other men learned that he was married with
six children, they made him take one of the remaining places.
The ship left harbor and, a few days later, was intercepted by a
British naval vessel. The Germans on board were put in a
British prisoner of war camp at Kiel.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Bonnke and the children lived in Denmark
as refugees until being returned to a war-ravaged land now
occupied by the Western allies. When Bonnke was released, the
family was reunited at Gluckstadt late in 1948. Although he
had not seen his father in almost four years, Reinhard
recognized him instantly and remembers running into his
outstretched arms. By that time, his father had been called to
preach and was ready to become a full-time pastor. The setting
and preparation for Reinhard's spiritual development was now
ready, and God was about to move in a direct and personal way
in his life.

Preaching to the Trees

Reinhard's mother led him to the Lord at nine years of age, a
few months after the family was reunited. Then, to make it
"proper," he responded to an altar call in the local church to
make a public commitment. As a child, he was aware of
spiritual things. In spite of getting into the same kind of
mischief other boys his age did, he remained basically a
serious-minded child. Jesus was the center of his life, and even
sports held little attraction for him. Jesus was his boyhood
hero, and remains his hero as an adult. He did have an ear for
music and learned to play the piano and accordion, but that
talent was used to worship and serve the Lord. There was
never a place for worldly distractions in his life. His favorite
"game" was to go out into a nearby woods and preach to the
trees.

"A friend and I would go off where nobody could see us or
hear us, and we would preach out our hearts to the trees. My
friend was a much better preacher than I was, and I used to
wonder whether I would ever be good enough a speaker to
stand behind a pulpit," Reinhard says.

The childhood friend, however, has never preached a real
sermon, while flesh and blood audiences of thousands have
come to hear the shy and diffident boy who used to preach to
trees. The thin alto voice that challenged the tall pines of
northern Germany to repentance now shouts "Hallelujah" in a
rasping baritone in churches from England to South America
and from Canada to Australia. In small, dimly lit halls, chrome
and glass auditoriums, tents, and even the naked bush of
Africa, the grown-up Reinhard has sounded the good news of
the Gospel.

His parents really did not understand the depth of his
spiritual devotion as a child. They lived a frugal life in the
countryside, governed by the traditionally strict German
discipline and the restraints of the holiness teachings of the
Pentecostal church to which they belonged, but prayer
meetings were not obligatory.

Reinhard recalls, "I was not allowed to go to midweek prayer

meetings, but I really wanted to go. I wanted to be there, but
when my mother saw me weeping because I could not go, she
relented. It was the first time she had ever heard of a little boy
crying because he could not go to church!"

During one of those mid-week prayer meetings, a woman
said God had given her a vision. In it she saw a little boy
breaking bread before thousands of black people. She turned to
Reinhard standing next to his father and announced, "This is
the little boy I saw in the vision." He was ten years old at the
time. This was the first of many dramatic supernatural
encounters that were to punctuate the adventurous path that
would lead him to one day challenge Satan head-on over the
wind-swept veldt of southern Africa.

In addition to devouring the Bible, Reinhard read stories of
famous missionaries and heard visiting missionaries speak at
his father's church. He became full of the desire to go to the
mission field by the time he was eleven. To his parents, these
were just the daydreams of an overly serious little boy, but he
refused to be discouraged. Some of his friends used to tease
him as "the little missionary," but he cherished and held onto
the desire in his heart. Then, as a teenager, the Holy Spirit
gave him a confirmation of his own in a dream to add to the
vision related by the woman at the prayer meeting. He
dreamed of a map of Africa with only the name of one city on it
— Johannesburg.

"I must confess that my knowledge of the geography of
Africa was not too good then, and when I awoke, it bothered
me that the name of the city was so far south. I was sure the
real place was nearer central Africa. I immediately got out a
map of Africa and found that the One who designed the planet
knew His geography better than I did. There was Johannesburg
exactly where I saw it in my dream," Reinhard relates.

The dream, though, did not bring any dramatic change or
any direction. Life went on as usual and, at nineteen, Reinhard
was admitted to the Bible College of Wales, eager to equip
himself for the mission field.

Again, his parents and friends at the local church did not

understand his decision to attend the non- Pentecostal,
conservative, evangelical Bible college which he had heard
about from a visiting preacher. Nor did the elders of the church
where he meant to attend college understand any better. This
German youth who wanted to attend college could not speak
English! However, the immediate witness in his spirit when the
college was mentioned was enough assurance that this was the
place where the Lord wanted him to study.

Despite his youth, however, Reinhard was sure that he knew
God's will for his life. He respected his elders but refused to
allow them to discourage him or to swerve him from his set
course anymore than he had the other children when he
preached to the trees. That certainty on knowing the will of
God and the determination to stick to a settled course have
become characteristics readily recognizable to those with
whom he has dealt over the years. Some people have thought
his steely determination was disguised stubbornness, especially
when he began to carve out a ministry under the African sun.
His faith, however, is fearless in the face of any Goliath or any
criticism.

So he packed his suitcase, placing his well-worn Bible in
between his shirts, and headed across the English Channel.
Looked at in the natural, the situation did seem odd. Why
would God send a German youth to a Bible college in Wales in
order to send him as a missionary to Africa? Through such
instances as this in his early life, Reinhard has learned to trust
God and not question Him. There were particular influences
and experiences in that place that would equip him specifically
for the future God had planned, although there were German
colleges just as good which would have been nearer home and
less trouble to attend. Perhaps it was simply trust and faith that
he was learning by having to depend on God in alien
circumstances, but he knew early that obedience always pays
even if one never understands the reason on this earth.

Chapter 2: LESSONS IN FAITH

The first three months at college were agony. He took it for
granted that he would have to write all his examinations in
English, not realizing that he could have gotten permission to
have written all or part of them in German. He set himself to
learn English, however, and after only three months was
preaching on weekend assignments without an interpreter, an
amazing accomplishment.

He listened with great concentration to the lecturers and at
night would go through his lessons by candlelight with a
dictionary at his side. It was not easy, but there were some
compensations. The college rules were all printed in English so
he inadvertently broke every one of them at one time or
another. Once he received a severe reprimand for filling his
bath up to the brim, which was forbidden in a big notice on the
bathroom door. As he relaxed in the steaming bath, water was
pouring through the overflow pipe into the courtyard above the
main entrance to the men's dormitory! Another advantage to
speaking a foreign language was being able to pray in tongues
without offending fellow students or lecturers. They thought he
was just praying in German.

He soon found his decision to attend the college confirmed
by the things he learned about the Word of God. One of the first
things he discovered was that the staff all "lived by faith." None
of them drew a salary. They received room and board but had
to trust God for anything more. For example, if the cook needed
new equipment in the kitchen, she did not put through a
requisition to the college office. Instead, she prayed for what
she needed and trusted God to supply. To Reinhard's surprise,
the principle seemed to work, and everyone was surviving. As
the staff members prayed for their needs and received the
answers, they used a statement that soon became a catch
phrase for the students: "I have been delivered."

Once as the students were gathered for a prayer meeting,
the college president came in and announced that the
equivalent of several thousand dollars in American money was

needed by the end of the week to pay the bill for coal. He said,
"I just want you to pray We make no financial appeals." That is
a lot of money today and meant a lot more in I960, and
Reinhard thought to himself: "Now let's see what happens." At
the end of the week, the president again attended the prayer
meeting and triumphantly proclaimed to the students: "Praise
God, we've been delivered!" That incident focused the young
student's attention on prayer and faith. From that moment, he
earnestly began to pray, "Lord I want to be a man of faith if You
are prepared to trust me."

Once the seed of faith was planted in his spirit, he
immediately decided to put it to the test. Up until then,
Reinhard had been well taken care of financially by his parents
and members of his home church in Germany. He received
packages of goodies and supplies from home as well as pocket
money and funds to pay his college fees. Now he began to seek
God for this "real" faith. The message he received from the
Lord was clear: "If you really want to become a man of faith,
give away all the money you have. Give it to a missionary who
passes through here, and then you will see what I will do."

Reinhard eagerly accepted the challenge, but tried to keep
back just a few dollars "in case of an emergency." This brought
a swift comment from the Lord: "You see? You don't give Me a
chance to do a miracle. How can I do a miracle if you take care
of yourself? You haven't given Me a chance." It was a solemn
moment as the quiet voice of the Holy Spirit echoed in
Reinhard' s heart. That day, he saw the deep- seated, self-help
program that is in the human heart. He saw how people
ingeniously look after themselves and, by so doing, cut out God,
not giving Him half a chance to prove His power.

So he gave away all his money and progressively learned
that a man of faith gains rich rewards, not just for himself, but
for the Kingdom of God — although there may have been a few
occasions when he felt that a tide of doubt would drown him.
He set out to experience faith-living for himself, and an
opportunity to test his faith came soon.

He was given an assignment to speak at a young people's

meeting a bus ride from the school. He had money for the
round trip fare for one person, but he wanted to take along a
friend to help. So he went to the friend, Tuinis, a Dutch
student, and asked him to go along. The two students boarded
the bus in high spirits having spent all the money both had on
two oneway tickets. The meeting was a success, and the young
people listened eagerly to the Bible stories. It was a beautiful
day. The sea was calm, and children played happily as people
strolled leisurely along the beach.

Reinhard really did not have time to enjoy the holiday
atmosphere, however. He was busy praying:

"Lord, we need our return fare. I am testing you now for the
first time to see whether Your Word is true. I gave all my money
away, and I had enough money for a round-trip ticket if I had
come by myself. But I wanted to test You for the first time."

As he stood with his Dutch friend on the shore, they spotted
a local pastor whom they knew.

Immediately, Reinhard thought, "Praise God, here comes our
deliverance. If God can speak to anyone here, it surely must be
this pastor because he is a man of God."

The boys greeted the minister enthusiastically and their faith
soared as they were invited to join him for a cup of tea in a
nearby restaurant overlooking the beach. As they sat together
sipping tea, exchanging stories, and listening to some of the
pastor's experiences, Reinhard's spirit was sending out an SOS
over and over: "Lord, just enough for bus fare. Speak to this
man. Just enough for bus fare!" Still trying to help the Lord
along, he finally spoke up and said, "Our bus is coming soon.
We must not sit here too long." So the minister called for the
waitress and paid the bill. The youths could not help but notice
that inside his wallet was enough for bus fare several times
over.

"Well, it has been nice running into you boys. Keep up the
studies," the man said, and they all shook hands. That was it.
No money. Reinhard looked glumly at his friend, and the two
dragged their feet as they walked to the bus stop. Black clouds
of doubt began to hover over Reinhard. He wanted so much to

see God provide, but now .... As his mind wrestled with the
situation, suddenly he became aware of someone running
behind them. They turned and saw an elderly lady, handbag
swinging on her arm. A bit out of breath, she almost knocked
them down as she reached them.

"Boys," she said, fumbling in her bag for her purse, "I liked
your little message so much. Here, take this," and she held out
to them two English coins that were twice as much as they
needed to catch the bus. Reinhard and his friend smiled
broadly at each other. "Praise God. Lord, You are faithful," they
said. Rushing off rejoicing, they bought their tickets still
marveling at God's goodness. Surely those coins had been
minted in Heaven!

That was his first genuine answer to prayer. "Deliverance"
had not come from the source which he expected, and right
there he learned a major lesson in living by faith: Never count
on what may seem to be the obvious thing in the natural. Also,
he learned never to look to people with money and think
because they have it they will supply your financial needs. The
Lord's work is still supported in the main by "the widow's
mite."

His studies continued and his English improved — he knew
that because now he could read the rules! The more than sixty
students constantly were inspired by the example of the staff.
The teachers were not simply interested in filling students'
minds with knowledge of the Bible, they were concerned as
well with shaping the characters of the young men. Part of that
meant helping the students deal with the "self" aspects of the
soul. Reinhard' s missionary zeal grew, and the faith life
enchanted him. He soon came to realize that for faith to grow,
it has to be exercised; otherwise, it will shrivel up. One cannot
stay at the bus-fare level all of one's life.

One day while praying, God spoke clearly into his spirit to
return to Germany during the next school holiday. Here was a
second real challenge to his faith. He had no money at all, but
went to a travel agent and booked passage to Germany. A few
days before he was to leave, the agent called and asked him to

come in and pick up his ticket. He still did not have a penny to
his name. Stalling the agent off, Reinhard told him, "I will come
in time. Don't worry."

With the deadline nearing, Reinhard spent much time on his
knees. "Lord, you told me to give all my money away. Now You
are telling me to go to Germany. You have to supply my need. I
am not telling anyone about it."

The days passed, and the day before departure, he was once
again on his knees. "Lord, you only have one more chance.
Tomorrow before 9 a.m. I must find the money in the mail box.
That is Your last chance. I see no other way. Please, Lord
Jesus!"

The next morning, Reinhard could hardly keep still. He
rushed through breakfast and paced restlessly up and down the
corridors and through the beautiful Italian gardens that
surrounded the college buildings. His whole being was focused
on one thing: the money for the ticket. At 9 a.m., he ran to the
mail box. Yes, there was a letter addressed to him. His heart
beat faster as he ripped it open — this must be it. His hands
were shaking slightly as he pulled at the contents of the letter
expecting a check to fall out. What a disappointment! The letter
was junk mail, a routine advertisement. He felt as though a
bucket of ice water had been poured over his head and stood
staring blankly at the worthless piece of paper in his hand.

Something inside of him seemed to be saying, "Hang on."
Trying to hide his disappointment, he walked quickly back to
his room. There was only one resort — pray again. As he knelt
beside his bed, his Dutch friend Tuinis joined him. While they
were praying, the travel agent called again. In an urgent voice,
he said, "Mr. Bonnke, when are you coming to collect your
ticket? Your train leaves at 1 p.m." Reinhard took a deep breath
and said as calmly as he could, "Don't worry. I will come and
get it in time."

The words, "Don't worry," echoed in his mind. His ticket was
booked, everything was ready to go — but he did not have a
penny to his name. He could hardly believe the reality of the
situation as he walked away from the telephone and went back

to praying. Again, he cried, "Lord, You told me to give my
money away You told me to return to Germany Now I am
testing You. You promised, but time is running out."

The minutes passed by . . . 10:30, then 11 a.m. came.
Reinhard and his friend went off to one of the classrooms
where they could shout to God. Maybe praying louder would
get an answer. As they began to pray out loud, the words of a
chorus suddenly came to Reinhard' s lips, one the students
often sang: "There is nothing too hard for Thee" The two young
men began to sing that song. When they sang the last verse,
Reinhard experienced something that, even today, he finds
difficult to explain. That little mustard seed of faith to which he
had clung seemed to grow and grow. It was as though he had
entered a new dimension. In his spirit was a calm, divine
assurance that all was well.

With the words to the last verse still lingering in the air of
the classroom, he jumped to his feet and exclaimed, "The
money is there!" His bewildered friend looked up and said,
"Where?" His answer was, "I don't know, but I know it is there."
They left the room and raced across the garden toward the
front of the college. As they rounded a big hedge, a man came
running toward them. He was tall and breathing heavily, but he
looked straight at Reinhard and asked, "How much money do
you need?" Reinhard stared at him for a moment. This was it!
"God knows the amount," he answered, "I'm not telling you."
The man dug into his pockets and stuffed a handful of money
into his hands. "There," he said, and before Reinhard could
speak, the man turned around and left.

He counted the money, and it was the exact amount needed
for the fare. He grabbed his suitcase out of his room and ran
for the bus. In town, he charged into the travel office, paid for
his ticket, and raced for the railroad station where his train
would be leaving in fifteen minutes. He must have looked like a
marathon runner at the end of a race. The train was actually
moving as he flung open a door and flopped into the nearest
seat. He was exhausted physically, but his spirit was rejoicing.
Now he knew beyond any doubt that God answered prayer. If

He would provide for an unknown German Bible student in
Great Britain, then He would provide for him when he went to
Africa.

After two years, Reinhard successfully passed his
examinations, and with Bible and diploma under his arm, was
ready to win the world for Jesus, or more explicitly, to win
Africa for Jesus. But the gateway to Africa was barred at that
time because he was considered too young, so God restrained
his zeal and led him into the evangelistic work in Germany.
Here he got his first taste of crusade work and of preaching in
tents. Standing under the canvas canopies preaching the
Gospel to fellow Germans, he had little idea that tents would
someday become the trademark of his own ministry, one of the
world's most anointed and dynamic Gospel outreaches.

When he moved to Flensburg, also in northern Germany, and
pioneered a church with the help of a friend, it seemed that the
dream of going to Africa was fading. Especially when he met
the young lady who was to become his wife, and the Bonnkes
settled down to a modest church routine. In 1966, a son,
Freddie, was born to Reinhard and Anni.

Yet Africa tugged at his heart. He would not lose the vision,
but obviously God would not let him go yet. It was a period of
apprenticeship and growing in grace and experience. After
eight years, the doors began to swing wide and circumstance
made it possible for him to go to Africa as a missionary.

When he announced to his thriving congregation that he was
going to Africa, they were dismayed. Some thought it was
bravado. The majority of his friends begged and pleaded for
him to stay, but there was no way anything or anyone was
going to keep him from going to Africa. At last, after eight
years, Africa was in his sight. He could almost see the grass
huts and feel the burning sun. No soppy sentiment was going
to dissuade him from fulfilling his life's calling. Africa was
waiting.

Chapter 3: GOD S FAITHFULNESS

His first year in southern Africa was almost a disaster. He
worked in Ermelo where the Bonnke's second child, a daughter
named Gabi, was born. Reinhard had come to Africa with his
own ideas about how a missionary should operate. One of the
things he cherished was freedom, and he did not take kindly to
the shackles of mission boards. He had to grit his teeth firmly,
however, and tighten his belt. He still does not talk much about
that first year on the mission field. He learned to submit to his
superiors, although he disagreed with some of their methods.
They felt he needed to be eased gently into the new conditions
and needed time to learn and observe the many strange
traditions and ways of life in Africa. While his desire was to get
out and preach to the African people.

He desperately wanted to fly from the cage of circumstances
in which he felt trapped, and he began to eye the independent
nation of Swaziland. Then he got the opportunity to visit
Maseru, the capital of the mountain kingdom of Lesotho. What
he saw there touched him. Once the British Protectorate of
Basutuland, Lesotho was a poor, landlocked country. The
people lived off the land, and there was very little
industrialization. Hundreds of thousands of young Basuto men
still travel each year to work in the gold mines of South Africa,
bringing home good pay checks and luxury items. "There was a
spirit of helplessness about the place," he recalls. After
returning from Maseru, there was a restlessness in his spirit.
He knew that he had to make a move — or perish. He could not
stay any longer at that time in South Africa. But where to go?
He wanted desperately to please God, not to stray from His
sovereign will. He wanted to stay within the bounds of the plan
that God had drawn for his life.

The next morning, while reading his Bible, a passage in
Judges seemed to leap up at his eyes. Not only did it seem to
indicate Lesotho, but it also promised the blessing to
accomplish the job that God wanted him to do in that poor,
neglected country. Arrangements were made with his mission

board, and he got a green light from his superiors who
obviously had faith in this enthusiastic German missionary with
such a burning zeal to preach the Gospel to the African people.
Often he had felt like Samson shorn of his hair, but now he was
going to be given the opportunity to flex his muscles. After a
year of standing patiently in the wings, the call had come. He
was ready to step out onto the stage of the rugged, mountain
country of Lesotho.

Blanket of Death

The Bonnkes did not move to Lesotho immediately because
they already were living just across the border at Ladybrand, a
small farming town in the Orange Free State. Once their third
child, Susi, was born in May 1969, however, Reinhard and Anni
moved to Maseru to live among the people with whom they
were working.

From the beginning of their marriage, Anni has been the
perfect homemaker and mother, spending her time caring for
and rearing the children. Absolutely devoted to her husband,
she is extremely shy of publicity and dislikes the limelight.
Seldom does she ever make any public speeches. But her
husband is the first to admit that he could not have
accomplished God's purpose in his life as readily without her
support and assistance. Truly, her reward will be gained in
Heaven.

The move to Maseru gave Reinhard his freedom. For the next
six years, he worked tirelessly at evangelising the nation. Those
were hard, tough years. The children were growing up, and his
son Freddy began attending the local school.

Looking back, he would call that time the "lean time of the
ministry." Despite all his efforts in preaching from village to
village, building a fine church in Maseru, starting a Bible
correspondence course that reached thousands all over Africa,
he was still not satisfied. That is the dynamo that hums within
his spirit. He is an achiever and a perfectionist. His heart is
always striving for a closer relationship with God. He
deliberately wants to delve into God's limitless supply.

Although he may not say it, Reinhard also loves a challenge.
At heart, he is an adventurer, a man who will dare anything for
God — no matter how difficult the task. While other
missionaries might have boasted of success, he was looking at
the Lesotho scene with critical eyes. He examined the work and
himself and came to a staggering conclusion: it was not
enough. That missionary urge in his heart was not satisfied.
There had to be another challenge, something bigger to tackle.
Only God knew what it was, but Reinhard was willing to risk all

by leaving Lesotho and heading for Johannesburg.

Somewhere in his spirit, that map of Africa with
Johannesburg still glowed. If that dream had been from God, he
must go to Johannesburg, the city of gold — but before that, he
had a close brush with death.

Carelessly, he had drunk some unboiled water. On a blazing
hot day with hardly a cloud in the sky, he had been driving
along the twisting, dusty mountain roads visiting local pastors.
His throat was parched when he arrived at the small village of
Kolonyama, and he felt as though he had trekked across the
Sahara. The offer of a cool drink of water was like stumbling
into a green-fringed oasis, so he gulped it down.

That night, he fell sick with what he thought was a bout of
dysentery. By the next morning, he was desperately ill and lay
in the bed exhausted, slipping into fits of delirium. His wife
prayed at his bedside, and the message went out to his fellow
pastors to pray. As the fever raged, he got weaker and weaker.
Unable to eat, he was fast losing contact with what was going
on around him.

On the third day, he experienced a strange vision. His eyes
were wide open, and he saw a black blanket floating down
toward him apparently about to cover him up. Instinctively, he
knew the blanket was death He found that he could see
through the blanket. On the other side was a face — the face of
Jesus. Despite his delirious condition, a soothing comfort came
over him as he gazed at the Lord's face. Then something even
stranger happened. He was suddenly conscious of someone
praying, someone agonizing in soul, crying out and pleading
with God, begging and pleading for his life. He knew the voice.
It was that of Eliese Kohler, a dear, loyal, and devoted member
of his father's church in Germany.

As he listened to her praying, the blanket began to fade
away. Reinhard recalls that he slipped off into a quiet, restful
sleep. The hot fever that seared his body subsided. The crisis
was over, and Reinhard would survive to preach many more
sermons. He was many weeks recovering, but he wrote to his
father and asked him to contact Mrs. Kohler and ask her what

had happened on the day he had seen the "death blanket." His
father's reply confirmed what he believed. The prayer warrior
had risen early and been urged by the Holy Spirit to pray for
Reinhard. As she prayed, the burden so intensified that she
realized a fight for his life was going on. She spent virtually the
entire day praying for him. To Reinhard, it underlined once
again the mighty power of prayer. A woman had prayed in
Germany thousands of miles away, and God had acted because
of the faithfulness and obedience of one woman. Since that
time, Reinhard has experienced the power of prayer in his own
life on many occasions.

Chariot of Fire

Two further incidents of note occurred in Lesotho. Both were
linked and, once again, meant the opening of Heaven's curtain
for God to supernaturally intervene in his ministry.

One incident still makes him blush to this day because it
involves a financial deal that went wrong. He was taken for a
ride and could have paid dearly for it in hard cash. Across the
hall from his offices in Maseru was a business selling furniture
from catalogs. Some of the African pastors came and asked
Reinhard to help them buy some furniture. "Survival wages"
was about the best description of his own salary in those days,
but the pastors kept pressuring him each time they visited,

"I was really on the spot," he says. "I knew the poor
conditions in which those pastors lived. For the most part, old,
discarded items made up the bulk of their household
furnishings. So I prayed, 'Lord Jesus, You said we should not
close our hearts. I am going to do something I have never done
before. I am going to borrow money and lend it to these
pastors, my dear brothers.' "

So the pastors went over into the other office and ordered
some furniture. When they told him how much they had gotten
for the amount of money they had, he became suspicious. He
asked the salesman how he could sell so cheaply. Was the
furniture stolen? The man assured him everything was in order,
so contracts were signed and money paid in advance. Four
weeks later, the deal exploded. The furniture was being bought
on hire-purchase agreements across the border in South Africa,
and the sale of the goods in Lesotho was illegal.

Through a phone call from one of the pastors, he learned
that the salesman was going to skip across the border. "Please
stop him. Get a lawyer. Otherwise, we are going to lose
everything," pleaded the pastor. As Reinhard put down the
telephone, his spirits were low. He wondered what lawyer he
could get. Then, slowly, he bowed his head, and prayed, "Lord
Jesus, You are my lawyer. I put this case in Your hands."

The next morning, a pastor was waiting when he arrived at
the office and wanted to know if he had contacted a lawyer.

"Yes/1 replied Reinhard.

"Which one?"

"The best in town."

After a pause, the pastor asked, "Who is that?"

"Jesus" smiled Reinhard.

He recalls that the pastor's face did not show much emotion,
but says, "I felt he was disappointed. My case was resting with
Jesus, however."

The furniture man did skip the country, and the pastors
never got their furniture — but the devil was not able to steal
the money from Reinhard. Two weeks later, Reinhard was
invited to speak at some special meetings. He had not told
anyone about his unfortunate loss, feeling honestly ashamed
about the incident. After one of the services, a man came up to
him and pressed an envelope into his hand with a gift for "his
own personal use." When he opened it, there was the exact
amount he had lost on the furniture transaction. He was able to
pay off the loan he had taken. "The wonderful thing about it,"
he laughs, "is that my Lawyer charges no fees!"

The second incident also involved finances, but came from a
very different angle. It is best told in his own words:

"I was driving through the flat, almost treeless Orange Free
State. The Bible correspondence course had been going for five
years with an enrollment of fifty thousand. It was a costly
business to keep going, and I was always scratching around for
extra finances.

"To save expenses, I bought envelopes in bulk — one
hundred thousand at a time. I had to wait until I had saved
enough cash before I ordered them. As my well-worn Mercedes
diesel-engined car pounded along that day, I was reflecting on
that unhappy furniture deal in which I had become involved.
'Lord,' I prayed, 'there is one thing I will never be able to
understand. If I had borrowed that money to enrich myself, I
could understand why You allowed me to fall into that pit. But
You know better than anyone else that I borrowed that money
to help the poorest of the poor. I did it for Your Word's sake. I
did it for my brother's sake. Lord, I cannot understand why you

allowed this to happen.1

"What happened next is hard to describe. Suddenly, Jesus
was tangibly in that old car. It was as if it had become a flaming
chariot filled with the glory and presence of God. Tears gushed
out of my eyes, and I thought I was in Heaven. The spiritual
fulfillment which I experienced at that moment cannot be put
into words. I was no longer conscious of steering the vehicle or
of the passing scenery. I felt as though I was being wrapped up
in God's glory and being posted to Heaven. The thoughts of the
furniture money disappeared. Then I heard a voice say: The
flour in the box shall not diminish and the oil in the cruse shall
not become less.'

"I knew what the words meant. I had two mission accounts at
the bank. I said, 'All right. Lord, of my two accounts, one is the
box and one is the cruse. My duty is to pour them out, and Your
job is to fill them up.1 That was in 1970, and I have never
managed to get into the red with the work God has sent me to
do in Africa. I have sometimes overspent, only to find that the
amount was covered by some anonymous deposit."

There is no doubt that he has pushed hard to empty the
barrel! Sometimes his bookkeeper has thrown up his hands in
despair when accounts have fluttered on his desk like confetti,
but somehow they all get paid. Not that Reinhard is reckless
with finances, and neither is he extravagant. Because of his
strong determination to accomplish the divine task given him,
however, he sometimes strains the purse strings.

In later years, when the Big Tent eventually came into
production, it proved a tremendous financial drain on the
entire organization of his ministry. The men working on the
tent demanded more and more equipment, and he could not
turn a deaf ear. The Big Tent got preferential treatment which
led to some frustration as other outreach work had to take a
back seat at times. Reinhard' s coolness in the midst of a cash
crisis, however, must surely be traced back to that
supernatural encounter on a lonely stretch of road.

A Modern Elijah-Baal Encounter

Now followed an event that totally reshaped his ministry. It
was almost like having Moses' rod slapped into his hand or the
mantle of Elijah slide over his back. Although it looked like a
disaster, the incident signaled the beginning of a new ministry.
At the time, however, he almost visualised himself being stoned
at the city gates!

In many ways in the early 1970s, Reinhard was just another
missionary toiling away under the scorching African sun.
People got saved, people got baptized, but ministry was one
long continuous struggle. People kept saying that Lesotho was
"a difficult place for the Gospel." He says, "I agreed with them
heartily, so I kept repeating that. Little did I realize that I was
snaring myself with those words. I prayed earnestly for a major
breakthrough but became even more convinced that 'this place
is too difficult.' When fifty people were at a service, I thought
the Great Outpouring had begun!"

Deep inside, however, he longed for something bigger and
greater, something to bring resounding praise to God,
something that would shake people out of their lethargy and
demonstrate that Jesus is alive, something that would cause
men and women to come to the Savior in large numbers. With
this in mind, he invited a well-known evangelist with an
anointed healing ministry to preach at two services.

Reinhard and his associates were wildly enthusiastic. The
printing press was running furiously to get out handbills and
posters telling about cripples walking and the blind being made
to see. They even managed to get some time on the local radio
station. His faith was higher than Mt. Zion as the time for the
crusade drew near. The services were the talk of the town and
the church was packed for the first one. Surely this was the
breakthrough for which he had been praying! Now the
superstitious minds of those who trusted in witchcraft would
see what the Lord Jesus could do.

He stood on the platform that night looking out at what
seemed to be a sea of faces, more people than he had ever seen
in the building before. He was touched as the lame limped

down the aisle looking for a place to sit and some twisted
human forms dragged themselves along on all fours to get into
the church. The sight of those mangled, twisted limbs moved
his heart. Oh, to see these people healed by the power of God
was the cry of his heart as the African voices were lifted in
hymns.

The meeting began. The visiting evangelist preached a good
sermon, but the atmosphere was not right. Very little
happened. In fact, midway through the evening, the evangelist
turned to Reinhard and urged him to close the service.
Reinhard was flabbergasted. "I can't do that," he said. "These
people want you to pray for them."

"No. Gose the meeting," the evangelist argued.

Reinhard' s mind was in turmoil as hundreds of eyes stared at
the two preachers waiting and hoping.

"All right, I will close the meeting, but you must promise to
pray for them tomorrow morning." The evangelist agreed and
the meeting was closed.

As he turned off the lights and locked the church doors, he
was very sad. Everything seemed right for a revival. One look
at the faces of the people would have told anyone that. As he
went to bed, a little gust of apprehension stirred his heart.
Surely things would be better tomorrow, he thought, pushing
fear away. Sunday morning dawned. He arose, washed, and
shaved, then went to pick up the evangelist. To his amazement,
he found the man in his safari suit with his suitcase packed
about to climb into a waiting car.

"What is happening?"

"I am going home," the man replied.

"No, you can't do that. You dare not. I have just come from
the church. It is full. There are even more people than were
here last night. You cannot go." There was a note of despair in
Reinhard's voice. How could this man desert him with the
church full of people waiting for him to pray for them?

The evangelist turned, looked him right in the eye and said,
"The Holy Spirit told me I must go."

Reinhard checked himself. That was a different situation. "If

the Holy Spirit told you, then you have no option. You must go.
You dare not disobey. God bless you, and goodbye."

He watched the evangelist drive off, then climbed back into
his own car very upset, and cried out to God. "I am not a big-
name preacher. I am just one of Your little men, a missionary;
but, now I will preach at this meeting, and You will do the
miracles."

In utter desperation, his old car slid to a stop at the church
in a cloud of dust. He would have to preach. There was nothing
else to do. Muttering a prayer under his breath, he called the
African pastors together and told them what had happened. As
gloom settled over them, he ignored the protests. "I am going
to preach, and God is going to do the miracles," he told them
with a boldness that surprised even himself.

Bible firmly clasped in his hand, he strode up onto the
platform knowing what was going through the minds of each
person watching him: "Where is the great man of God?"
Looking straight at the audience, he told them the evangelist
had gone — then he held his breath. What would they do?
There was a shuffling as two men got up from the front row
and walked out. Would that be the signal for a mass exodus?
No. As the men pushed their way through the crowd, others
began elbowing their way toward the front, eager to gain a
better vantage point. The rest of the audience just sat, waiting.

As he began to preach, an anointing of the Holy Spirit fell
upon the people. Never before had he experienced the power
of God with such intensity. The interpreter broke down in the
middle of the message and sank to the floor with tears pouring
from his eyes because of the holy presence of God. As Reinhard
paused, waiting for the interpreter to regain his composure, he
"heard" words that almost left him speechless: "My Words in
your mouth are just as powerful as My Words in My own
mouth." His senses reeled, and then he heard the sentence
repeated. He recalls that, like a movie film, he "saw" the power
of the Word of God. God spoke, and it happened. Jesus had told
His disciples to speak to the sycamine tree, and it would wind
up in the sea. (Luke 17:6.)

"I suddenly realized/' he says, "that the power is not in the
mouth — the power is in the Word."

In the meantime, the interpreter had regained his feet.
Reinhard continued his message, then again the voice of the
Holy Spirit prompted him: "Call those who are completely
blind, and speak the Word of authority." Hardly daring to
believe what he was "hearing" but certainly not daring to
disobey, he called out to the totally blind to stand up. About six
people stood up.

As the blind people stood next to their seats, he began to
have second thoughts. The devil dropped into his mind this
thought, "What if nothing happens?" Then, he says, "I
whispered under my breath, 'I am going to do what Jesus told
me to do.' "

All eyes were on the missionary as the jabber of the people
ceased, and he knew this was the moment of truth — for him as
well as for the congregation. He spoke to the blind people and
said, "Now I am going to speak with the authority of God, and
you are going to see a white man standing before you. Your
eyes are going to open."

It could have been a modern-day Mt. Carmel duel, with the
servant of God poised to call down fire on the sacrifice to Baal
as the cultic priests looked on. Surrounded as he was by
Africans who were firm believers in the power of the
supernatural as manifested in witchcraft, Reinhard knew that it
was not his reputation at stake. Taking a deep breath, he
shouted, "In the name of Jesus, blind eyes open!" The power of
his voice jolted even those on stage as if a flaming bolt of
lightning had flashed through the church. His voice was still
echoing from the bare brick walls when a woman shrieked.
What she screamed shattered the composure of the
congregation: "I can see! I can see!"

The woman, who had been totally blind for four years, leaped
toward Reinhard. Almost out of control, she grabbed people
around her demonstrating that she could now see. The
congregation began to shout, and the church erupted in
bedlam. The woman fought and pushed her way through the

mass to get to the microphone. "Whether you believe it or not, I
can see," she said. "Give me something to read. I can see
again."

The congregation sounded more like a crowd at a football
game as cheers erupted throughout the building. A young
woman with a crippled child tried to get to the front but could
not for the crowd, so she handed the boy over her head to be
passed on until he was thrust into Reinhard's outstretched
arms. As the child lay helpless, Reinhard prayed and then
sensed a surge of God's power through the little body. The
child's legs began to vibrate. Amazed at what he was seeing,
the evangelist put the little boy down on the platform, and it
was like putting a wind-up toy down. He stood for a moment,
then began to run with his crippled legs straightening out
before everyone's eyes. He ran to the right and then to the left.
The screams and shouts of the people sounded like torrents of
mighty waters.

The meeting continued for several hours with countless
people being prayed for by Reinhard and his co-pastors. The
church was filled with singing and praise. The people of
Maseru knew that morning that Jesus is alive beyond any
shadow of a doubt. When the service ended, and the last few
people left, one man remained. Reinhard walked quietly into a
darkened comer of the now-empty church, bowed his head, and
with folded hands prayed, "Thank You, Holy Spirit for sending
the big evangelist away. Thank You, because now nobody can
say it was him. Now everyone will say it was Jesus Who did the
miracles. This is how I want to serve You. This is how I want to
work with You."

Chapter 4: A MILLION SOULS

During the last quarter of 1974, Reinhard visited South
Africa several times for discussions with the executives of
Apostolic Faith Mission (AFM), the denomination with which he
has been associated since coming to Africa, about moving to
Johannesburg. The Lord was shaking him loose from the roots
he had put down in Lesotho.

Once, he heard the Lord speak clearly into his heart: "Do you
want me to give you a million dollars?" What a wonderful
thought. He naively believed at that moment that he could win
the world if he had that much cash. Then something stirred
deep in his soul, and ignoring passersby, he raised his hands in
the air with tears in his eyes and cried, "No, Lord. Don't give
me a million dollars; give me a million souls. A million souls
plucked out of Hell's jaws. A million souls for Heaven." Out of
this encounter came Reinhard's now famous war cry: "Let's
plunder Hell and populate Heaven."

If he were to get those million souls for the Lord, then he
knew they had to move. So in October 1974, the Bonnkes
bought the house which was to be their home for about ten
years. The house was in Witfield, a suburb of Boksburg (about
twelve miles east of Johannesburg), and they moved in just
before Christmas. As another indication of the Lord's
providence, Anni says, "There was only one house unsold in the
new development, and of them all, that was the only one that I
would have wanted." Another indication they were on the right
path was that the Holy Spirit had indicated their headquarters
should be near Jan Smuts Airport, South Africa's international
terminal, and Witfield is less than ten minutes from the airport.

Never a man to go easy on himself, Reinhard often operates
dangerously near his physical limit. Shortly after the move,
Anni began to notice an unusual lethargy about her husband.
His usual zest for life was gone. Finally, he had to confess that
he was a sick man — hard to accept for someone who preached
that Christians were not only saved from sin but delivered from
sickness and disease. He had seen miracles of healing with his

own eyes. Now his prayers did not seem to be bringing any
results in his own life.

"I was very sick, and didn't think I was going to make it. I
went to doctors, but nothing helped. I cried to God, 'Lord, what
are you doing? What is your plan?" One afternoon a thirst for
prayer came over me, and I was barely on my knees when I saw
a most wonderful vision. I saw the Son of God stand in front of
me in full armor, like a general. His armor was shining like the
sun and burning like fire. It was a tremendous sight, and I
realized that the Lord of Hosts had come to me. I threw myself
at His feet and laughed and cried for I do not know how long.
When I got up, I was perfectly healed," Reinhard relates.

A Momentous Year

That was early in 1975, which was going to prove a
momentous year in his life. He was to initiate an extraordinary
Gospel outreach into the sprawling black township of Soweto,
next to Johannesburg, and was to launch Christ for All Nations
(CFAN) with the ministry headquarters located within a couple
of miles of his home. He established his own ministry because
the AFM Home Mission Board would not always back some of
his projects, and he realized that he would need an outside
source of funds. While in Lesotho, he had gained private
support for some of his own projects, and to avoid any financial
queries and to ensure his integrity and reputation, he kept
separate accounts — his own and the denomination funding
account. The ministry name had actually been registered in
1972, but it was three years later that CFAN, the name by
which his ministry is popularly known in Africa, was seen in
banner-size letters over a crusade for the first time.

Botswana Breakthrough

Reinhard had always been acutely aware of the importance
of radio to missions and had started broadcasting while in
Lesotho. Response from the local programs and others aired in
Ghana, Zambia, and Swaziland had been encouraging. Tens of
thousands of people wrote in to take his Bible correspondence
courses and to tell of accepting Jesus as their Savior. One man
was sitting in his car with a hose running from the exhaust pipe
trying to commit suicide when he turned on the radio to get
some music to cheer him into eternity. Instead of music, he
heard Reinhard's voice challenging him to repent and accept
the Savior. The man did just that, quickly dismantling his
suicide apparatus and driving home to tell his family of his new
Friend, Jesus. (The courses have since been discontinued.
Reinhard has no regularly scheduled radio or television
programs, but the ministry does produce audio and video
cassettes.)

So in 1975, he turned his attention to Botswana, another
landlocked neighbor of South Africa, also bordered by Namibia,
Zambia, and Zimbabwe. A desolate country, Botswana consists
mostly of the harsh Kalahari Desert and is famous for its
bushmen, the little people who survive by the most primitive
means. The country does have a radio station, however, which
is beamed into many neighboring countries. Reinhard flew into
the capital of Gaborone on his trip to buy airtime on this
station. As the plane made its approach to land, he looked
down at the monotonous brown countryside and caught a
glimpse of green — the Botswana National Sports Stadium,
which meant nothing to him then. Sports did not interest him,
but little did he realize that the sports stadiums built to
celebrate independence were to become an arena for the
preaching of the Gospel.

Strolling along the sidewalk in the blazing morning sun, he
found himself going past the National Sports Stadium. To use
his own words, suddenly he was "rooted to the ground" when
the voice of the Holy Spirit spoke dearly: "I want you to preach
My Word there." He quickly responded, "Lord, You have said it.

and I am going to do it. I believe You."

Inside, his spirit surged like a giant ocean wave trapped in a
rocky cove. He sensed this was not just a fleeting wave of joy
but something different. This could be why God called him out
of Lesotho. Soon he was in discussions with a local pastor, and
negotiations for radio time were no longer a priority.

The pastor was excited over a city-wide crusade, but became
cool when Reinhard mentioned hiring the stadium. Obvious
doubt showed on the man's face. Perhaps he thought the
German brother was suffering from a touch of the sun!
Reinhard repeated his request and asked that the city hall be
hired also in order to begin the campaign. The pastor scratched
his head and politely told Reinhard that he was obviously
unaware of the local situation. He said, "Why, I only get forty
people out to a Sunday morning service, and you are talking
about hiring the stadium! Surely, brother ...

Displaying what may have appeared to be presumption but in
reality was faith, Reinhard did not even allow the man to finish
the sentence. His mind was made up based on the Word from
the Holy Spirit. "Hire the biggest hall in town," he said, "also
make arrangements to get the use of the stadium, and I will be
back in thirty days with a team." He flew back to Johannesburg
to organize a crusade team with a heart full of expectancy.

A Dream of Mass Evangelism Fulfilled

By April 1975, the crusade had been publicized widely and
posters had been put up all over town. The local pastor had
worked feverishly to herd up as many people as possible,
bringing them in cars to the city hall. Reinhard and the first
CFAN team, consisting of a small group of workers and a big
lovable middle-aged Zulu pastor as co-evangelist, arrived for
opening night to find one hundred people in the hall which
seated eight hundred — and the stadium seated ten thousand!

The local pastor, however, was thrilled at the "crowd." He
warned Reinhard not to expect any larger crowds after the first
night because his entire congregation of forty persons was
there, and there just were not any more people he could bring.
Reinhard' s faith had been maturing over the years, and he
refused to be stampeded into panic. He knew the devil was an
accomplished bluffer, but that God holds the winning cards.
Still, it took courage that night to face the audience and tell his
co-workers that God was going to fill the hall. He preached and
his co-evangelist prayed for the sick, and things began to
happen.

People began to leap to their feet exclaiming, "Something
happened to me. I am healed!" Others, touched by the power of
God, collapsed and slumped to the floor. This continued night
after night. The team was thrilled by the miracles but puzzled
by the new (to them) and strange phenomena of people falling
down under the power of God. When people began to ask what
was happening, Reinhard gave this explanation: "The Bible
speaks about signs and wonders. It is not a wonder when
somebody collapses, but surely it is a sign — a sign of God's
presence."

By the end of the first week, the eight-hundred seat hall was
overflowing with close to two thousand people with some
sitting in others' laps, some sitting on the floor, and some in the
windows. A sardine can would have looked like a palatial
ballroom compared to that hall. People were being drawn in by
the talk of miracles and healings, just as the news of miracles
and healings had spread across the sunny fields of Galilee

almost two thousand years before. Jesus was walking through
Gaborone, and the people were flocking to meet Him.

When Reinhard first entered the sports stadium hired by the
no-longer doubting local pastor, it was almost like a dream in
spite of his faith. He had nursed the dream of crusade
evangelism and big crowds with mighty miracles since his
youth. This was what he had longed to see but had not dared to
share for fear people would think he was boasting. Now
thousands filed in to hear the Gospel, and many university
students streamed to the front when the altar call was given.
Before the end of the crusade, there was another spiritual
surprise which came like an explosion.

The Baptism of the Holy Spirit

One night, the Holy Spirit urged, "Pray for the people to
receive the baptism in the Holy Spirit." So he got one of his
African workers to give a lecture on the Holy Spirit baptism.
The man did his best, but it was a confused teaching. He left
out what to Reinhard was the most important point — speaking
in tongues. Reinhard was about to get up and correct this
omission when he was checked. The Holy Spirit said, "Just keep
on sitting. Stay where you are." Although frustrated in the
natural, he remained seated and waited obediently on the
Lord's next move.

When those wishing the baptism were asked down to the
front, about a thousand people responded. The moment they
raised their hands and stood, it was as if a bomb had exploded.
Within seconds, all those standing had been flattened in
disorganized piles of people, all of whom were shouting and
praising God in a new language. Reinhard gaped amazed at the
holy disorder. Never before had he witnessed such a thing.
These people knew nothing about speaking in tongues, yet here
they were shouting praise to God in other languages. Tears
filled his eyes as the phrase from the Book of Joel surfaced in
his mind: My Spirit upon all flesh . . . My Spirit upon all flesh
(Joel 2:28). As he stood there under the starry night sky with a
symphony of heavenly languages rising into the still air, he
prayed, "Let Your Spirit fall on all flesh in the whole world."

As the crusade ended and the team left Botswana, Reinhard
made a decision and a commitment before God: "Lord, I have
tasted honey. I will never be satisfied with syrup any more. No
substitute will do. It is this or nothing." The Lord answered, "I
will be with you. Go on."

Beyond any doubt, God had given him a vision for Africa.
Looking at the giant continent with its size, its complexities,
and its heathenism was enough to daunt the faith of any
mortal, and he knew that only the power of the Holy Spirit
could meet this challenge. Anything less would produce failure.

The pattern for his ministry was now clear, and the dream
was beginning to be a reality. He would become acknowledged

by all as an evangelist, not simply a missionary. He had tasted
the first fruits of mass evangelism. At heart, however, he
remains a humble man just as much at home in a small country
church. In addition to the big crusades, which he loves because
that is his main calling from God, he speaks at churches and
breakfast sessions.

Soweto Township: Lazarus at the Rich Man's Door

With his great capacity for work, Reinhard had initiated an
unusual outreach into Soweto at the same time that he was
preparing for the mass evangelism breakthrough in Botswana.
Sprawling along the outskirts of Johannesburg, the name of
Soweto is now known in many parts of the world because of the
social unrest and riots that arose there. Soweto's world
recognition for such sad reasons did not occur, however, until
eighteen months after he received the charge from God to take
the Gospel there. To spiritual eyes, it is quite obvious that the
devil began to stir up trouble to try to stop a revival in Africa;
although, of course, the awful conditions of life in the township
should have been addressed by governing authorities and
churches long before.

There was no electricity in 1975 in Soweto. The streets were
dust and stone or mud and slush when it rained. Huge craters
marked the roads that snaked in between dingy, grey buildings.
More than one and a half million people now live in the
depressing town. Rural residents come to find work in the "City
of Gold" — Johannesburg — resulting in overcrowded housing.
At times, there may be fifteen people living in a one- bedroom
block house. There are not enough jobs for all, so there is high
unemployment. The crime rate is high, and illegal bars or
taverns, called shebeens, are found everywhere. Drug traders
move freely through the back lanes, and murderers, muggers,
and rapists stalk the streets after sundown.

The township is also home, however, to hundreds of
thousands of honest people who travel into surrounding towns
to work. Despite the awful social problems, the crime, the still
powerful influence of witch doctors, Soweto is not totally a den
of thieves. It has a place in God's plan of salvation for mankind.
The Lord spoke to Reinhard about the township shortly after he
had been dramatically healed. The Word he received was very
clear:

"Soweto is like the poor man Lazarus at the door of the rich
man, Johannesburg. You dare not ignore him. You have got to
do something for him."

It seemed obvious to Reinhard that God wanted to save many
thousands, because in the mire of Soweto there were hearts
crying out for God's mercy To evangelize the "poor man," he
adapted a bicycle strategy which he had used in Maseru. By
faith, he got together a bicycle brigade of dedicated witnesses
for the Lord, loaded them up with Bibles, hymn books, and
Christian literature. In Maseru, they had gone out into the
lonely mountain villages with their materials and their
testimonies. Some of them even took to horseback in order to
reach remote villages high up in the rugged ranges of the
Malutis Mountains.

His instructions from the Holy Spirit were to buy one
hundred bicycles, each fitted with a large carrier on the front
and to send Gospel witnesses house to house with literature
and personal testimonies. His bicycle brigade also was to pray
for the sick. He told no one about the plan for Soweto except
his wife. Soon, however, people began calling or stopping by
the office — some complete strangers — asking, "Do you need a
bicycle for the mission work?" Soon he had fifteen of the
special bicycles. Struck by how quickly everything was coming
together, he remarked to Anni, "It seems as though God is
pushing us from behind. He is pushing us as if He were in a
hurry." There was an urgency in the task the Lord had given
him that he had no idea what was about.

At that point, he began to share his goal of reaching Soweto
with others. Usually, he is very reluctant to make appeals for
money. His approach is to share the vision from God, then
challenge people to share in the ministry by praying and giving
whatever they can afford. His fundamental belief has always
been that God is the Provider. In 1975, he was still ultra
cautious about appeals. So he was thrilled when a man came
up after a church meeting in Johannesburg and asked, "How
much money do you still need for your project?" When told that
another eighty-five bicycles were needed, the man promised,
"I'll give the money for all the bicycles."

With a song in his heart, he visited the cycle factory,
negotiated a good price, and signed the contract. But when he

phoned the sponsor to tell him of the price, the man said, "I
have made a mistake. I am sorry. I cannot give you anything."
Reinhard wondered whether his ears were playing tricks on
him, or whether the man was just a joker. He was in deadly
earnest, however, and Reinhard was left holding a signed
contract for eighty-five bicycles and not a penny to pay for
them. His spirit of joy braked to an abrupt halt.

Instead of becoming angry at the errant sponsor or trying to
bully him into keeping the promise, Reinhard allowed him to
withdraw his offer. "I told him I wanted to remain friends, but
that if he could not trust God, then he should trust me to trust
God!" He sets himself not to make enemies and never to hold a
grudge.

As usual in such cases, however, he did not receive much
help from some friends who took the role of "Job's comforters."
They began to criticize and doubt his vision for Soweto, and to
make such comments as "We always knew it was a mistake," or
"This was too big a bite. We knew you were going to choke to
death." One even asked him why he had to have a hundred
bicycles, "Is that a magical figure?" To which, Bonnke replied,
"No, it is not. It is God's figure, and that is all there is to it."

Refusing to be swayed by critics or doubters, he continued to
plan for the Soweto outreach and within the next four weeks,
the required finances for the bicycles flowed into the ministry.
After he visited his homeland for a brief preaching tour,
German Christians became the largest contributors to the
project.

So with military-type planning. Operation Soweto was
mounted. A huge map dominated the ministry offices as
territory was assigned to workers. Pastor Johan Venter of the
AFM was a key figure in organizing and running this exciting
new evangelistic project. The bicycle evangelists did a
tremendous job, working long hours each day. Within eight
months, the goal had been reached. Every house had been
covered.

It was June 1976, and the last evangelist had hardly pedaled
back into headquarters when the news came that Soweto was

aflame. Large-scale rioting had broken out and police had been
called in. The army was on standby and cars and buses were
being stoned and burned. Lawlessness reigned for several
weeks. Thousands of workers stayed home, afraid to venture
out into the streets where vicious fighting was going on
between police and rioters. Many died. At night, the sky
towards the southwest of Johannesburg was a red glow as
burning and pillaging continued.

Now Reinhard knew why God had been in such a hurry and
why one hundred bicycles had been needed. Otherwise, the
project would not have been completed in time, and some of
those people would never have had an opportunity to hear
about Jesus. Certainly, after the riots, evangelists were not able
to move through the township easily and in safety. The Soweto
episode made a lasting impression on his commitment and on
his walk with the Lord.

"What if I had not obeyed? What if I had compromised on the
number of bicycles? I determined more than ever to walk a
strict path of obedience, never guestioning God's wisdom," he
says.

Another lesson he learned was that God never has to rely on
just one man to finance His projects. An incident that helped
bolster his faith was the visit of an elderly lady the day after
the sponsor had reneged on his promise. She gave Reinhard
money for one bicycle and said, "Every day I will think of that
man on my bicycle going from door to door. I will be praying for
that man every day." Then the evangelist realized that God not
only wanted bicycles and witnesses, he wanted a prayer
partner to back up each of the men in the field. Gold and silver
does not impress God as much as people to pray for His work.
The evangelists in the field needed that intercession to move
into the tough township and take the Word house to house.

One of a thousand incidents that could be told of snatching
someone from the gates of Hell in Soweto occurred when
police entered a home searching for a man accused of murder,
but stopped at the bedroom door to see him down on his knees
giving his heart to the Lord. They stood back and waited for the

evangelist to finish before taking the man off for trial.

The bicycle evangelism campaign was not the end of the
Bonnke ministry's Soweto connection. Reinhard would return
there twice, and the second time would involve the opening of
the world's biggest Gospel tent. In 1976, however, that part of
the plan of God was still hidden from view.

Chapter 5: A "NURSE" FOR THE GREAT PHYSICIAN

Three other crusades — one in South Africa, one in Namibia,
and one in Swaziland — and the purchase of the land for CFAN
headquarters were high points of 1976. One day a man from
Reinhard's home suburb of Witfield told him about a property
for sale. The man said, "There is a Scotsman living in the old
white house on the plot near to the railway line, and he wants
to sell it to me for a nursery school, but I am not too keen on it.
Would you like to have a look?"

Quick to sense a divine opportunity, Reinhard jumped into
his car and drove off along a bumpy, dusty track. The old
farmhouse, formerly white but now a sickly yellow, did not look
very impressive. It was surrounded by tall grass and a glorious
crop of weeds — certainly no Garden of Eden. But from the
moment the soles of his feet touched the ground there,
Reinhard "knew" it was to be his headquarters. As usual, when
beginning any new project, there were no funds, and pretty
soon he found there were ten bureaucratic reasons why
authorities would not allow the deal to get off the ground.
Reinhard's comment, "The reasons are in our favor," did not
make sense to his colleagues. He knew, however, that the land
would be his and told the CFAN board of directors to close the
deal. "In the name of Jesus," he said, T will pay the full amount
on the day of transfer. "

Three months later, he sat down and wrote out a check for
the full amount. The red tape had been worked through, and
the funds had come in. When the board first saw the land, one
of the members quipped, "Maybe Reinhard is going farming."
Looking at the overgrown acreage, he wondered himself. Now
it belonged to the ministry, but what was God going to do with
it?

Over the next three years, what God was going to do with it
gradually took shape. On May 4, 1978, the office complex was
officially dedicated by Dr. F. R Moller, AFM president, and
Pastor J. W. Gillingham, who served on the CFAN board for
more than eight years.

A Mission at the Gates of Hell

The first crusade of 1976 illustrated what the famous English
preacher Charles Haddon Spurgeon meant when he once
wrote, "I don't want a church in the vale. Give me a mission at
the gates of hell."

Held at Port Elizabeth in New Brighton, South Africa, CFAN
had hired the four-thousand seat Centenary Hall for the two-
week crusade. One night, the Lord moved so strongly that the
sermon was never finished. Suddenly, people began streaming
to the front weeping like children. A shower of cigarettes,
knives and other instruments, witchcraft fetishes, and stolen
articles landed on the platform as people came under
conviction and began throwing away those articles of sin.

One young man, who was only about twenty years old but
whose face was a network of knife scars, came up one night
and gave the pastor a homemade vicious-looking knife, saying,
"Here, pastor, take it. I have decided to give my heart to Jesus."

Flooded by a wave of compassion, Reinhard leaned over and
whispered, "Thank you. Lord. What no policeman could ever do
has just been done by the Holy Spirit."

During the second crusade of the year, in Namibia, Reinhard
prayed for a man suffering from cancer in one ear and with no
eardrum in the other. When he had finished asking God to heal
the one ear and perform a creative miracle in the other, the
man began to jump up and down: He could hear with the ear
that had no eardrum. At first, even Reinhard was incredulous,
then he thought that God Who created us must have all the
spare parts we will ever need.

That concept sums up much of his approach to healing. Not
wasting any time debating the theological pros and cons, he
just sails along praying for the sick. If they get healed, he
rejoices with them. If they do not, he calmly rests the case in
the care of God's sovereign will and great mercy.

At one point in his ministry, he says that questions about
healing concerned him, but then the Lord showed him that he
was only the "nurse." Jesus is the Great Physician. He says:

"The more I thought about it, the happier I became. I

realized that it is the physician's place to diagnose the disease
and prescribe the medicine. All I have to do is follow behind the
doctor and carry the medicine. It just remains for me to
administer the dosage as prescribed — and then it works. By
whose stripes ye were healed (1 Pet. 2:24), the prescription
says, and they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall
recover (Mark 16:18). So all I am is a nurse, and I am very
happy to be one for Jesus."

He witnessed two other remarkable healings that year, both
involving people suffering from terminal cancer.

The first case was a woman who had heard a cassette tape of
one of his sermons in which he related miracles performed
through his ministry and that of a co-worker, Michael Kolisang.
She also read often from a book about Habakkuk 3:19 which
had been brought to her in the hospital by her husband.

The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hind's feet, and he will make me to
walk upon mine high places.

She felt that verse had some special meaning for her. But she
was sent home from the hospital to die. Then a friend said that
God had told him to bring Pastor Bonnke to pray for her.

Although he was involved in a conference and felt he could
not take the time, when the man called and made the request,
Reinhard heard the Holy Spirit say in his heart, "I am sending
you." Michael Kolisang, an early associate in Maseru who had
joined the Bonnke ministry, arrived in Witfield the morning of
the visit, so Reinhard took him along. When they met the man
who had called and who was to guide them to the woman's
house, the man gave Reinhard's associate a perplexed look and
said, "Look, I have nothing against black people, pastor. He is a
dear brother. But we are going to visit Dutch Reformed people,
and I don't think they would like a black man to come into the
house."

Reinhard replied, "Don't worry. Mike understands South
Africa. He can wait in the car while I pray for the woman."

As they drove along the Johannesburg-Pretoria highway, the
racial question soon faded from his mind as he prayed about
the woman they were to visit. What Scripture could he give
her? Suddenly, verses from the Old Testament flashed into his

mind:

Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the
olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there
shall be no herd in the stalls:

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.

Habakkuk 3:17.18

As they neared the outskirts of Pretoria, Reinhard wrestled
with the verses. "Lord, I can't give her that scripture. It sounds
as if she is going to die. Everything goes wrong in those verses.
No, Lord!"

But the Holy Spirit indicated once again, "Give her that
scripture."

As they drew up in front of the home, he asked his African
friend to remain in the car. He was still uncomfortable about
the verses he was to give the woman, yet he was determined to
be obedient.

The woman's face, a mask of death, lit up as he walked into
the bedroom, and she told him of listening to the cassette and
praying that she might meet him and Pastor Kolisang. At the
mention of his friend's name, Reinhard exclaimed, "Just a
minute, my sister. I will call Kolisang. He is right here with me
now and waiting outside in the car!" As Kolisang entered, it
was obvious there was no racial prejudice in that house.

Reinhard opened the Bible and read the passage from
Habakkuk. As he read, the sick woman began to weep and to
tell them of the book she had been reading in the hospital on
that very chapter. She handed him the book with almost every
sentence underlined.

"Well, I am convinced that God is here to do a miracle,"
Reinhard told her.

The little group gathered around the bed, and as they laid
hands on the patient, the room was filled with the glory of God.
She whispered, "I have a vision. I see myself standing under a
mighty waterfall." She looked stronger by the time they
finished praying, apparently wonderfully healed in an instant.
Less than a week later, she went through three days of
intensive testing at the Cancer Research Institute, and all the
tests and X-rays proved negative. The doctors were astonished

at no trace of cancer being found.

There is a sequel: God not only healed Mrs. Dinnie Viljoen
but gave her a ministry to the Afrikaans-speaking people of the
Dutch Reformed Church. She criss-crossed the nation for a
year, telling her story and seeing countless women won to the
Lord and set free from religious bondage. On the anniversary
of her healing, she arranged for the use of a nearby
Presbyterian church and Reinhard spoke to some four hundred
people. As he drove off that afternoon waving goodbye, Mrs.
Viljoen was radiantly happy. It was the last time he was to see
her.

He flew to West Germany the next day for a preaching tour,
and while he was gone she died. He believes firmly that if he
had been in South Africa and able to pray and counsel with her,
she would not have died.

"Of course," he says, "I can only speculate about that. I do
know that her life was extended by God for one wonderful year.
During those twelve months, she accomplished more for the
Lord than she had in all the previous years of her life."

The second case of praying for a terminally ill cancer patient
came later in 1976, when he visited a man in the cancer ward
of Johannesburg General Hospital. Unable to find a parking
place, he told his wife to keep circling the hospital until he
came out. The Word from the Lord for this person was Psalm
118:17: You shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the

Lord. After reading the Bible and praying for the man, who
seemed to relax, Reinhard hurried out to catch Anni, still
patiently driving around and around the hospital.

A year later, he learned the rest of the story when a
strapping young man walked into CFAN headquarters. He said,
"Pastor Bonnke, do you remember me?" That is always an
embarrassing question for a traveling evangelist who sees and
prays for thousands of people each year. He studied the man's
face for a few moments, but had to confess that he could not
remember him at all. With tears in his eyes, the young man
said:

"I am Kruger, the man with leukemia whom you visited in

Johannesburg. All those other men from that ward are dead
and buried. I came here to tell you my story. When you left that
afternoon, I knew the power of God had struck at the cause of
my disease. I told a nurse to get my clothes, that Jesus had
healed me and I was going home. She was not impressed and
thought I was losing my mind. I told her to call the doctors and
get my clothes. I was leaving.

"When the doctors came, they did not want to let me out, but
I stubbornly insisted. They said my healing was impossible. I
said it was possible. Finally they agreed, on the condition that I
sign a form absolving them of any responsibility if I died. I
agreed, because I knew I was not going to die. I left the ward
with a medicine chest of four hundred cortisone tablets which
they insisted I carry along. I was to take forty a day. To satisfy
them and get away, I took the medicine along, but once I got
home, I threw it all in the trash can.

"I began to get better and regain my strength. When I went
back to the hospital, the doctors were amazed. They examined
me thoroughly but could find no trace of leukemia. I am
perfectly well and do not even suffer from the slightest
headache. I am the picture of health, thanks to Jesus," he
concluded.

Plan Like a Millionaire

The final big crusade of 1976 was held in Swaziland in two
different locations. That particular campaign had three
circumstances that causes it to stand out in the memory of the
Bonnke ministry: There was tremendous demonic opposition,
there was an opportunity to hold a special meeting for the
nation's royal household, and there was extremely bad weather.

From the time the crusade ministry began, Reinhard had
been at the mercy of the weather. He saw that the only way to
draw consistently large crowds was to provide weatherproof
conditions. The only answer was a tent. He had made appeals
all through 1976 for finances for a five-thousand-seat tent.
They were using a smaller tent with protection for some eight
hundred people when the rain pelted down that afternoon in
Swaziland. The tent had been pitched in a gently sloping,
basin-like area, and torrents of water came rushing down into
the low-lying ground. Reinhard watched helplessly as cripples
struggled and splashed to drag themselves onto higher ground.

"It broke my heart to see those sick and crippled people lie
there in all that water, unable to move," he recalls, and quickly
he cried, "My God, give us a roof over our heads."

Like a flash, the answer came back to his spirit, "Trust Me
for a tent that will seat ten thousand." As he looked at the
swirling water and the soaked and wretched people standing in
the driving rain, he answered, "I trust You." That private little
prayer meeting in the middle of a thunderstorm on an open
field would bear much fruit. God would one day give him a tent
so huge, that when he stood under its immense roof, he could
hardly believe that men could have built such a thing. At that
time, however, his immediate vision was for a tent to seat ten
thousand.

Back in Johannesburg, he became weak in the knees when
he found how much the tent would cost. Actually, most people
doubted whether such a tent was possible. Certainly, there was
no one in South Africa who could build a ten-thousand-seat
tent. The necessary money amounted to six figures to have
such a tent built overseas, to buy trucks to transport the tent

and a powerful generator, and to hire more personnel. Just
looking at the needed amount written on paper made him feel
CFAN had been operating up to then with small change!

While pondering the plans, God spoke words that ring loud
in his spirit to this day: "Don't plan with that which is in your
own pockets. Plan with that which is in My pocket." Never slow
to grasp revelation.

Reinhard felt of the few copper coins in his own pocket and
caught a vision of God's full pocket. He prayed, "Lord, if You
will allow me to plan with what is in Your pocket, then I will
plan like a millionaire."

Signs and Wonders Continue in 1977

During 1977, he continued to hold crusades, to acquire
vehicles and equipment, and to pray for the larger tent.
Miracles and healings continued as the CFAN teams began to
move out across Africa. The crippled walked, the blind began to
see, and the deaf to hear everywhere the crusades were held.
One deaf woman was healed when he preached on forgiveness,
and she became able to forgive her husband for his
mistreatment of her. Another man, Reinhard's host during a
crusade, had five wives (permitted by African custom) and a
lame leg. After being prayed for, he began to jump up and down
on the previously bad leg, and shouted, "Look at me. I can kick
the dog again!" After he had calmed down, however, he sent
buses to pick up all of his relatives in the district to bring them
in for a service. In the same district, a group of police came to
the host's house and asked for prayer for salvation.

Of the crusades that year, the two at Giyani and at Sibasa,
stand out. Giyani is a remote rural area in the northeast,
bordering Mozambique. The nearest town of any size was more
than ninety miles to the south. The meetings were to be held in
a school hall, and the only publicity was the distribution of
handbills. What happened, however, was the best advertising
possible, and it did not cost a cent. The miracles of healing
attracted more than a thousand people to the four-hundred-
seat auditorium by the third night. The school principal,
however, pointed out that the large crowds were making the
grounds — to put it politely — rather unsanitary and
unhygienic. He suggested they move to the fairgrounds some
five miles away.

Although not sure that people would continue to come to the
services — many already were walking long miles — the
crusade was moved. There did not seem to be any alternative.
The crowds continued, however, and the miracles kept
happening. A clerk in the local post office told Reinhard one
day that he had been a drunkard who tormented his wife and
had never set foot inside a church. One night in a dream, two
men in snow white garments told him, "Go to the school. There

you will be shown the way of life." So he had attended the
services and was bom again.

As the crusade closed, Reinhard drove back to the school to
thank the principal, who greeted him warmly and said:

"Pastor Bonnke, how do you manage to do what you do? I
have been traveling this area many years. I know these people,
but everything has changed. The whole area is different. My
church has had a hospital and a mission in the district for
twenty years, and you have accomplished in seven days what
we have been unable to do in all that time. Normally, in such
large meetings, people make heroes of the evangelists. But the
people are not talking about you or Pastor Kolisang. They are
talking about Jesus."

Tears came into the evangelist's eyes, and he thought that
was one of the finest compliments he had ever received.
Everyone's comments were not favorable, however. When a
picture of the evangelist and his coworkers standing with a
huge heap of crutches collected during the Giyani crusade was
sent to Germany, some refused to believe the evidence. A few
people from home had been openly critical of his work in Africa
all along and doubted the claims of healings and miracles. They
were not convinced by the photographs. In fact, they started an
absurd rumor that the pile of walking sticks and crutches left
behind after the meetings was "typical of African people who
were absent-minded." It was hard not to resent those
comments, but Reinhard later was able to answer, "Blessed is
the cripple who can forget his crutches!"

Altar Call, Not Protocol

The Sibasa crusade was the real high point of 1977, and the
crowds that came fully justified the decision to buy a giant tent.
Located in Vendaland, in the far northeastern corner of the
Republic of South Africa, the area is hemmed in by the famous
Kruger National Game Park on the east and by a buffer zone
separating them from Zimbabwe on the north. When the
Bonnke ministry first applied for permits for a four-week
crusade, the answer was an emphatic no. To make matters
worse, the evangelist came down with a bout of flu.

One night, he woke up for no apparent reason, but all he saw
in large, beautiful lights was the word, SIBASA. "Lord, this is
confirmation," he whispered, "although we have been turned
down, we will still go."

As soon as he was able, Reinhard personally visited the
officials concerned and found the man he was to see was a
Christian. A permit was issued, but for only ten days. A
newcomer to the team, Adam Mtsweni, who was in charge of
the music ministry, said, "Never mind, God created the world in
six days. He can save Vendaland in seven days." Leading the
singing a couple of weeks later in Sibasa stadium, Mtsweni
could almost believe his words were coming true.

August in that area is usually dry and cool, so they did not
have to worry about rain — they thought. The first day,
however, it began to rain and did not stop. About two hundred
people came out anyway. The main stand had only a small
covering over it, with an unreliable generator and three
floodlights providing lighting. As a precaution, Reinhard took a
flashlight to the pulpit to help read from the Bible. Not only
was it wet, but a chilling wind whipped across the vast, open
stadium. Standing in front of his soaked audience, he wondered
how they could sit so still. His own teeth were chattering and
his arms and legs shivered in the unseasonably icy cold
weather.

Worse was to come. The generator died, and the lights went
off. As the generator usually died at least twice during a
service, Reinhard took his flashlight down to those at the

bottom of the stands trying to restart the generator. As he
missed his footing in the dark and did a cartwheel, landing in a
muddy pool of water, he found himself thanking the Lord for
the darkness that kept the audience from seeing the speaker in
such undignified circumstances! But he continued the service
and people were healed.

The wet and the cold continued the next day. He searched
the town for hot water bottles for the team, but none were to
be found. Sibasa generally enjoys warm tropical weather all
year round. So they put on extra socks and every shirt and top
they could get over their heads. Attendance the second night
amazingly doubled, and again there were notable healings. The
third night the rain had stopped, and attendance doubled
again. On the seventh night, some thirty thousand people
swelled the stadium to capacity. Still there were problems: the
public address system broke down and they had to preach
through bullhorns, but the blessings continued to flow.

One afternoon while praying alone in his travel trailer,
Reinhard received a dear, precise instruction from the Lord,
"Go and buy a beautiful gift for the President of Vendaland."

There was nothing suitable in Sibasa, so he drove fifty miles
to the nearest town and shopped until he found an attractive
vase and had it gift-wrapped. He still did not know how he was
going to get to see the President. As he arrived back in Sibasa,
however, one of the team came running out with a message:
The President of Vendaland wanted to see him at 4 p.m.

Reinhard and some of the team put on their best suits and,
with his Bible under one arm, the gift under the other, and
someone else carrying an accordion, he hurried off to keep this
divinely appointed meeting. The President's cabinet members
and their wives were at the country's "White House" when the
evangelist's group was ushered into a splendid lounge where
about thirty people were waiting.

President Mphephu shook hands and said, "Pastor Bonnke, I
am sorry for the problems you have encountered. I have heard
that God has blessed my nation through you and your team,
and I have called you because I also would like to hear what

God has to say to us."

Grasping the opportunity of reaching the leaders of the
government. Reinhard launched into a typical Gospel sermon
as if he were preaching to fifty thousand people. When he
finished, for a moment he wondered what to do. He could not
leave the message hanging in mid-air, but did protocol permit
an old- fashioned altar call?

As that thought flashed through his mind, the Holy Spirit
said, "Altar call, no protocol!"

Solemnly facing his VIP audience, he asked them to bow
their hearts and pray. Then he asked any who wanted to give
their hearts and lives to Jesus to raise their hands. As he
glanced around at the men and women in the luxurious room, a
hand went up — it was that of the President! Then came the
Minister of the Interior, and others followed. Once the
President led the way, "protocol" probably dictated that the
others come to Jesus also. Shouts of "hallelujah" and "praise
the Lord" filled the room as salvation came to the leaders of a
nation.

The meetings in the stadium reached a tremendous climax
with some forty thousand people attending the final service. At
the closing service, Reinhard looked out over the sea of faces
and suddenly remembered the scene back in that little prayer
meeting when he was eleven. The woman had said she saw a
little boy breaking bread before a multitude of black people,
and here he was, twenty-six years later, breaking the Bread of
Life before these people. The tears welled up in his eyes, and
he turned aside to weep quietly as he whispered, "How great
Thou art."

As 1977 came to a close, news came that the new Gospel
tent would be ready and in use during the next year.

Chapter 6: FAITH FRIGHTENS SATAN

There was an extra buoyancy in the spirits of the CFAN team
as they set off for the first crusade of 1978. They made quite a
stir arriving in the Far Northern Transvaal with the fleet of
trucks and other vehicles hauling the equipment and with the
travel trailers in which the team lives on the road. There was
even more excitement when the new tent was raised. It was
larger than a normal circus tent, larger than anyone had ever
seen before. It could seat ten thousand people, but only by
packing them onto tiny narrow benches. This was done on
many occasions, but even then the crowds overflowed and
stood several rows deep around the outside.

For the next five years, that yellow tent crisscrossed
southern Africa and was set up for services as far north as
Zambia. It became the embodiment of Reinhard Bonnke's
extraordinary mission to the continent. First, however, there
was a severe test.

The first crusade that year was a wonderful success, giving a
new confidence to everyone. The second crusade, a return visit
to Vendaland, was a different matter.

Instead of Sibasa in Vendaland, the 1978 crusade was in a
place called Njelele, under the shadow of a sinister, brooding
mountain. The new yellow tent, when first pitched, looked quite
regal in its rural setting. Within a few days, however, the pride
and joy of CFAN stood in the middle of a grey, wet, and
desolate scene with mud-splattered sides. Part of the roof was
torn and hanging in shreds.

The tent resembled a battle-scarred ship, listing heavily and
about to plunge to a watery grave, as it rocked and swayed
violently in the wind. Water cascaded down the sides like
rapids, and around the iron tent pegs, the crew looked in
despair at the giant mud pools being stirred up. Disaster could
strike at any moment. Inside, the glow of the generator-
charged light bulbs gave some warmth and comfort to the
forlorn scene.

Reinhard bravely attempted to preach a sermon to the few

hundred people who had come out in the raging storm to hear
the Gospel. They seemed oblivious to the pounding rain and the
danger above them, but he had barely said amen after the
closing prayer when tentmaster Eugene Wurslin came
stamping up the ramp to the platform. Hair plastered to his
rain-soaked face, he blurted out:

"Close the meeting. It is urgent that we evacuate the tent.
The pegs cannot hold any longer, and when they go, seven tons
of steel and cables are going to come crashing down on the
audience. It could collapse at any moment."

Even as he dismissed the crowd, the crew began to take
down the tent. In between rain squalls, the wind seemed to
breathe horrendous gusts from the direction of Njelele
mountain — the ancestral home of departed spirits, according
to local legend. When the team arrived, they had been warned
about evil spirits that haunted the mountain which was held to
be very sacred by the local inhabitants. A local pastor told
them:

"Some time ago, a missionary came here and put a tent right
where you have put yours. Before he was able to preach one
sermon, a fearsome wind came down off that mountain and
tore his tent to shreds. The missionary packed his bags and left
in a hurry."

Reinhard had confidently replied, "That will never happen to
us." But now, as he stood in the battered tent with mud rushing
in underfoot and the steel masts lurching drunkenly as giant
gusts of wind struck the canvas, those bold words of his
seemed pretty empty. From the start, the weather had been
against them. The tentmaster worked day and night to
maintain it. Sleeping was almost impossible as the wind
buffeted the trailers like a row boat on an open sea. Early one
morning, one of the masts had collapsed and a huge valley
formed in the tent roof with twenty tons of water in it that
threatened to bring everything down with it.

He admits that his spirit was submerged in despair when he
looked around him. All those years of praying and believing
God for the tent, all the months of negotiations and work, and

all the money — those were the thoughts that raced through
his mind. The tent- master said there was only one solution: to
slash the canvas and let the water pour through. So that is
what they did.

Reinhard had said, however, "We are not going to take down
the tent. In the name of Jesus, we will continue." They
continued, but so did the rain. Roads became impassable,
bridges were washing away, still a few dozen people came to
the services each night. Up until the night when the entire tent
threatened to come down, they had been "limping to victory."
Now it looked as if defeat was about to overcome them. As he
watched the crew working to avert a disaster, a man came up
to him. A resident of the Sibasa area, he had been saved and
healed of a stomach ailment in the previous year's crusade.

He looked up at Reinhard with a brightness in his eyes and
said, "Pastor, didn't you preach that all things are possible to
them that believe?"

The challenge and boldness of the words struck Reinhard as
a rebuke. Where was his much-vaunted faith? Yes, that was
what he preached and what he believed! He replied, "Yes, you
are right. I did not only preach it, I believe it in my heart." As
he said those words, something began to happen. It was like
waking up from a bad dream and realizing that all is well. The
cobwebs of doubt were blown away as a breath of Holy Spirit
power surged into his spirit. He looked around at the
apparently pathetic and helpless situation, and repeated the
words of Jesus, All things are possible to him that believes
(Mark 9:23).

The cloud of gloom lifted, and he called the crew together to
tell them, "I relieve you of all responsibility if anything goes
wrong. In the name of Jesus, I accept full responsibility. This
tent is not going to be taken down. We are going to stay here
and continue to preach the Gospel."

Although there was incredulity on every face, faith grew in
the hearts of the team members. Suddenly, they knew things
would be all right, even if their eyes and their minds told them
that disaster was less than a raindrop away. They began to

carry on with the mammoth task of keeping the tent up or,
rather, keeping it afloat! Within a very short time, a miracle
happened. The rain stopped, and the wind subsided. The hush
of silence brought a quiet peace to everyone's heart and a holy
awe.

A resounding victory crusade followed as they praised the
Lord for intervening. The sun came out at last from behind a
blanket of dingy, grey clouds. The muddy ground dried out, and
like an army of ants on the move, the people appeared from
over the hills. Down the stony paths and through the open veld,
they snaked their way to the tent. As the meetings went on,
there were more people outside than inside. It was an amazing,
fantastic triumph for the Gospel as the Holy Spirit moved
mightily on the people.

Reinhard renewed his acquaintance with the President of
Vendaland when he and several other dignitaries attended one
of the closing meetings. The President watched in amazement
when some fifteen hundred people were bowled over by the
power of the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues.
He leaped to his feet and asked, "Pastor, what power is this?"
Reinhard grinned and replied, "Your Excellency, what you see is
the power of the Holy Spirit." Later, the President took him
aside and asked him to consider returning for a future crusade.

When the trucks creaked and bumped along carrying the
tent to its next site, the Njelele mountain was bathed in
sunshine. The local people no longer lived in fear. They had a
new song: "Jesus is stronger than the mountain demons." As
they were leaving, some village women came running out of the
bush and knelt in front of the vehicle, begging him not to leave
until they had heard the Gospel.

Faith won a mighty victory at Njelele, but it was not the last
spiritual warfare the ministry had with Satanic forces.

At the next big crusade held in Potgietersrus in April, a
young man sauntered down the aisle between the long line of
wooden benches paying little attention to the singing. When he
saw the white preacher, however, hatred and anger welled up
inside him.

The man admitted afterward that he had no intention of
listening to the sermon. "Man, when I saw that white skin, all I
could think of was murder. I came into the tent to have a look
at the girls and to pick out one for myself, but as I looked
around a voice suddenly spoke just behind me. I heard the
words, 'Jesus loves you.1

"I whirled around, but I couldn't see who had said those
words to me. But a sudden change came over me. I felt as
though I was in the presence of God. I thought to myself. There
is not a single person on this earth who loves me. Who would
love me? Jesus?1

"I was rooted to the spot. I listened to the white preacher,
and when he called people forward to give their hearts to
Jesus, I ran out with tears pouring down my face. Jesus loved
me and died for me."

The young man came onto the platform and threw his arms
around Reinhard, hugging him as hot tears stained his cheeks.
It was a wonderful transformation. Like Saul of Tarsus, he had
been breathing threats of murder against the saints. Now he
bowed in surrender to the Lord Jesus Christ. The change in his
life was instantaneous. He had seven girl friends and went to
each one, telling them his affair was over.

The next time Reinhard heard from this young man, he was
at Bible school preparing to spread the good news about the
love of God. Today, he is a minister of the Gospel.

Faith and Fear Fight a Deadly Duel

In July of 1978, after a couple of other crusades, a tour of
Germany, and the dedication of the headquarters at Witfield,
Reinhard held an evangelistic seminar at a place called
Greenvalley in the northeastern Transvaal. Greenvalley became
an arena in which faith and fear fought out a deadly duel, and
there was only one winner.

The trucks and tent crew had gone ahead to set up, but
almost immediately called back to the office to report poor
ground conditions. Everything would be fine, if it did not rain.
If it rained, however, there would be a catastrophe — the whole
tent would collapse. The tentmaster was remembering the
harrowing experiences at Njelele. Reinhard calmly spoke into
the phone, "Pitch the tent. In the name of Jesus, it is not going
to rain. It is not going to storm." He did not realize it, but he
had just thrown down the gauntlet. His boldness would not
escape without being tested.

When he arrived at the tent, he saw a pastoral scene with
some lean-looking goats and sheep. Then as the sun went down
behind the green hills, people came streaming down the little
winding paths. The night air was filled with the chatter of
thousands of men, women, and children making their way to
the tent. Attendance was about eight thousand each night, and
by the end of the seventeen-day crusade, more than eight
thousand had filled in decision cards. In the meantime, a
spiritual struggle occurred that was brief but stupendous in its
outcome, not just for Greenvalley but probably for Africa.

On the eighth day, Reinhard was huddled over his Bible in
the privacy of his trailer when a blast of wind buffeted it. The
daylight began to get as hazy as if a filter were being pulled
over the sun. As he stepped outside and looked toward the
mountain range in the west, he gasped. Black clouds were
rolling up, and a fierce wind was pulling them across the sky
like huge sinister coils. There was no doubt that the devil had
challenged his faith, and catastrophe was stampeding towards
him in the form of a giant thunderstorm.

As he stood on the grass with the first gusts of cool, moist

wind ruffling his hair, the Holy Spirit spoke to him and said,
"Speak to the devil. Rebuke the devil." Reinhard tells what
happened next:

"So I began to stride toward those angry looking clouds. I
raised my finger, and I shouted, 'Satan, in the name of Jesus, I
want to talk to you. Devil, if you destroy this tent of mine, I am
going to trust God for another one three times the size of this
one!' My words drifted across the open veld, and then
something almost unbelievable happened before my very eyes.
The wind and the rain parted to the left and to the right,
making a wide detour around our tent. The storm never
touched us. As I stood there, the Holy Spirit whispered again,
'See? Faith frightens Satan.'

"I was excited. I had met the enemy's challenge head-on, and
he had been defeated by the authority of Jesus. Yes, the devil
had been frightened out of his socks. Faith frightens Satan.
What a wonderful truth! No wonder the Word of God says that
our faith is more precious than gold, and the shield of faith
quenches the fiery darts of the enemy. Faith puts Satan and his
hellish hordes to flight. Praise God!

"As I stood there, however, a perplexing thought came into
my mind about this strange thing that had happened which was
really spiritual warfare in heavenly places. Perhaps I had not
made myself clear to the devil. Maybe there was a
misunderstanding. So I raised my voice again, and boldly said,
"Devil, in the name of Jesus, I want to talk to you once more.
Although you withdrew the wind, and you withdrew the rain,
that does not mean that I have made an agreement with you. I
will still build a bigger tent anyway! "

"I needed to make it clear that I did not "negotiate" any deals
with the enemy. For God told us to cast him out, and that is
what I intend to do as long as I live on this earth."

The seeds of faith for a super-large Gospel tent were sown in
the fiery heat of spiritual battle at Green- valley that
September of 1978. Seeds were sown for no ordinary tent, but
for the biggest tent ever seen on the face of the earth. It would
be five more years before the mighty structure stood on the soil

of Africa, but when it did, Christians everywhere gaped in
wonder.

Satan on Crutches

During the last crusade of 1978 on the northern border of
Lesotho and just afterwards, the evangelist received comfort
and reassurance from one supernatural vision and a warning
from another. God had been manifesting His power mightily
with multiple healings and thousands saved when Reinhard
suddenly saw Satan limping around the tent on crutches. The
Holy Spirit said, "See — the enemy bears the sign of defeat."
For Reinhard, that was a confirmation for his burgeoning
ministry which now had thirty- two fulltime members.

Toward the end of the year, he saw himself at the helm of a
giant battleship. A splendid ship, it was heavily armored and
massive guns looked out over the prow. As he looked ahead and
down to the waterline, however, he noticed the ship was
moving along a tiny river, hardly more than a brook, and up
ahead was a sharp curve. He turned the wheel madly, but there
was not enough water, and the ship became stuck fast in the
mud.

When the vision ended, he puzzled over the interpretation.
"Lord, what does this mean?"

In a flash, the answer came, "That is CFAN."

He caught his breath, and his heart began to beat faster.
"Lord," he asked, "are we going to get stuck?"

Then came the interpretation. "A ship is carried by water. In
the same way, Christ for All Nations needs to be carried by holy
hands. Your base is too small. You need more holy hands to be
lifted up on behalf of this work. Every single prayer partner
constitutes one inch of this river. A battleship not only needs
firepower, it needs maneuverability if it is to have success in
battle."

That was a timely warning as the next few years would see
the ministry locked in a deadly spiritual battle as the plan for
the giant tent began to unfold. Prayer would be the key to the
continued success and growth of the ministry. Reinhard took
immediate steps after that vision to gain more prayer support,
and since then, he has continually sought more and more
people to back him prayerfully.

That crusade was in the beautiful mountain country of Qwa-
Qwa. By now CFAN had invested in a sixty-four-seat bus, and
its main use was to go to schools in the vicinity of crusades and
bring the children to the meetings. During that crusade, one
school principal refused to allow his pupils to be bused to the
meetings. He believed CFAN represented some sinister
religious sect.

One little girl slipped away from the school and attended
anyway. She was slightly crippled in one foot and had to wear
special shoes. When she reached the tent, she went quietly to a
vacant spot on one of the benches to hear Pastor Kolisang.
While she listened, a miracle happened. Her foot straightened
out. She came back the next night and gave her testimony and
also showed her principal what had happened. Shortly
afterwards, he was in contact with CFAN:

"Bring your bus. Please take the children to the meetings,"
he enthused. That incident proved to be a breakthrough,
because during the next few days, hundreds of schoolchildren
made decisions for the Lord. In fact, entire busloads of children
returned to their boarding schools saved. No wonder Reinhard
had seen Satan limping around on crutches!

A Spiritual Desert Where Witchcraft Ruled

During 1979, spiritual warfare continued with especially
heavy attacks by satanists and efforts by demons to disrupt the
services.

In July and August, the caravan of trucks and vehicles rolled
into Gazankulu. The equipment could hardly be seen for the
clouds of powdery dust that hung in the air. It had not rained in
many months, but what they found among the people was even
worse: The place was a spiritual desert where fear and
witchcraft ruled.

Night after night, the services were interrupted when people
suddenly let out the most chilling shrieks.

Even during the day, people would be wandering around the
big tent moaning and groaning. At night, Reinhard and the
team got very little sleep because of the sinister atmosphere
and the ear-piercing screams that occasionally rent the air. It
was like being awake in the middle of an awful nightmare.

Reinhard recognized that a tremendous battle was going on
in the supernatural as the Holy Spirit moved to set people free.
The demonic forces were being provoked and manifested
themselves with awful cries. He was curious, however, why so
much demon power was being concentrated around the tent.
One day, he visited a nearby village, a series of lopsided mud
huts with grass roofs. In addition to the regular dwelling
places, there were dwarf-size huts. Examining one of these, he
found it filled with witchcraft fetishes and strange writings.
The tiny huts were, in fact, shrines built especially for demon
spirits. It seemed that most of the villagers had bound
themselves to the demons. Now that they were hearing the
Gospel, they wanted to be free, but the demons were reluctant
to leave the victims they tormented and held captive.

The case of one young girl is typical of what happened
during this crusade. She came eagerly to hear the Gospel, but
as soon as she entered the tent, she went into a frenzy. They
prayed for her, but it seemed she could not get released from
the evil powers that possessed her. Pastor Kolisang went to her
hut and found, as he suspected, a large cache of fetishes and

other witchcraft items. The moment those things were removed
and burned, the girl became completely free.

That experience caused Reinhard to urge all new Christians
to renounce the past and surrender any idols, magic potions, or
occultic items that may have been a part of their previous lives.
He has seen over the years that, unless those things are totally
destroyed, their owners never seem able to get free of demonic
influence. Even yet, the platform in his giant tent is littered
with all kinds of objects after an altar call. Many strange
objects are hauled out and destroyed. This step of renouncing
the past should not be confined to Africa. Many occultic
symbols and practices permeate the American culture, such as
astrology, and many newborn Christians do not have any idea
those objects of jewelry and art can maintain a satanic
influence in their lives.

Reinhard also learned more about the deliverance ministry.
In his early encounters with demonic forces, he used to run
from one person to another, trying to pray and cast out the
demons.

"I used to be jumping everywhere, and I would fall into bed
exhausted at night," he says, "I realized that if I continued like
that, I would not make it to forty years of age. I then learned to
have faith in the Holy Spirit and to let Him move in."

During the years, he has often been challenged by satanic
forces, at times without even being aware of it. Satanists admit
that they have deliberately come into his tent meetings with
the intention of causing chaos. He was told once that four
satanists sat in four different sections and attempted to call up
demons to oppose him while he was preaching. The demons,
however, would not manifest themselves inside the tent.

"I was told one satanist said the demons raced around the
outside of the tent. They could not enter because it was
encircled by a wall of fire," he relates.

Another time, several satanists came into the meeting
accompanied by a witch highly rated for her ability to cast
spells. As she tried to cast a spell, she began to shake from
head to foot and shouted to her companions, "Get me out, get

me out." One of the satanists, seeing this, reasoned that Jesus
is more powerful than Lucifer or any witch and decided to
renounce the devil and become a child of God. He later told
Reinhard of the plan to disrupt the service.

Demonic disturbances are not confined to Africa. Once in
Germany a young Swiss woman sitting near the front at a
meeting, jumped to her feet suddenly and screamed. Reinhard
recalls, 'It sounded as if there were a thousand demons in her.
She ran up the aisle and out the door. The meeting froze as
though somebody had opened a giant freezer, then one lady
stood up and said, 'Pastor Bonnke, I am dead scared.'

'Then the Lord spoke to me, 'I have allowed this to happen to
demonstrate my power." I looked at the audience and said,
"How many of you will rise up with me in living faith and
command these demons to leave that girl right now? She is
outside, but that does not matter because the Holy Spirit is
able to minister to her." The entire congregation rose, and in
the name of Jesus, we rebuked the devil and gained the victory.
A few minutes later, the door reopened and that girl came in
completely free. She was baptized in the Holy Spirit the same
day."

His years of experience in Africa have made him fearless
when it comes to facing demonic attacks. "I am not afraid of
the devil, I believe he is afraid of me," he says with a
confidence that takes some people aback. He was put to the
test in Birmingham, England, in 1981.

He received a strange letter with no name. The signature was
666 and some other strange lettering.

It read, "Bonnke, you have invaded our territory. If you don't
leave within two days, we are going to bring a curse down on
your life."

His reaction was typical, "You won't succeed in chasing me out.
I will chase you out of Birmingham."

A few days later, another letter arrived signed 666 which he
did not even read but tore up and threw away remarking,
"Devil, I don't read your epistles. I read God's epistles. I am not
on the run. The gates of Hell are being blasted." He never

received any further notes.

He did receive a nasty shock during a crusade in 1979. As
repentant sinners streamed forward during the altar call, he
urged them to throw witchcraft objects, liquor, and tobacco up
onto the platform. As he dodged the items being thrown, what
looked like a thick cable came sailing toward him. The "cable"
landed close to his feet and began to wiggle. It was three
poisonous snakes. Song leader Mtsweni grabbed the
microphone stand and, with the help of others, clubbed the
snakes to death. The man who threw them had inherited the
snakes from his parents and used them for witchcraft
practices. Now he wanted to follow Jesus and have nothing to
do with those things anymore.

Can Jesus Heal a Broken Heart?

That year was marked by many more miracles and healings,
which were different kinds of battles with satanic forces. One
particular instance was the man with the broken heart. He was
driving along the road on a motorbike when he saw the trucks
with the sentence written along the side: "Jesus heals broken
hearts." The young man stopped at the camp and hunted up the
evangelist.

He said, "I didn't want to turn in here, but I did. I have a
broken heart. Do you think Jesus could heal my broken heart?"
Then he told his story:

"Seven years ago, I gave my life to God. I found Jesus as my
Savior. I was delivered from all my evil habits and addictions.
Then one day my wife went off for a few days to visit her
parents. I was at loose ends and went for a walk. As I wandered
along the street, i found myself in front of a place I had visited
many times before I met Jesus.

"I was drawn like a magnet to that place. I couldn't resist it. I
stood there wanting to go inside, but I couldn't because I felt
the presence of Jesus with me. As I stood there, I folded my
arms and said, 'Dear Lord Jesus, please leave me for five
minutes so I can go in and do what I want to do.1 When I came
out of that house, Jesus was gone, and I have been alone with
my misery and heartbreak for seven long years.

'Things have gone from bad to worse — seven times worse. I
am down and out, crushed and broken. Do you think Jesus
could ever help me again?"

As Reinhard listened to the man and looked into his pleading
eyes, his own heart went out to him. He had to do something.
Silently he prayed, and then the revelation came.

Looking at the young man, he said, "Listen, I will tell you
what to do, and I will help you do it. I want you to take my hand
and walk with me in the spirit back those seven years, back
through the streets of that town and to that place where you
prayed that fatal prayer for Jesus to leave you. I want you to
kneel down and say, 'Lord Jesus, I revoke that prayer. Forgive
me. I revoke that prayer.' "

The two then knelt down, and the man began to shout out his
prayer. "Lord Jesus, I withdraw, I revoke that prayer. Forgive
me." He wept, but now the tears were not the dregs of
bitterness but showers of joy. Half an hour later, he leaped onto
his motorbike, still weeping, but with heaven in his heart.

Every crusade has its highlights, and each has its own
characteristics. For this reason, it is hard to judge one as more
successful than another. But the November campaign of 1979
must rank as one of the best that year. It lasted nineteen days
and produced twelve thousand decisions for the Lord. Not one
single crime was reported to the local police during the
crusade, and there were many healings and miracles. Among
the thousands who accepted Jesus were Paramount Chief
Justus Sigcau and his sister Stella, both members of the
Transkei Parliament.

Chapter 7: THE DAY OF THE COMBINE

This is no longer the day of the sickle, this is the day of the combine.

Early in 1979, after the Lord spoke those words to Reinhard,
he decided to go ahead with plans to build a tent three times
the size of his yellow one. His experience since he had moved
from the traditional missionary stance to that of a mass
evangelist had proven there was a great harvest of souls to be
reaped for the Lord. He had made brief visits to Nigeria and to
Kenya, and had seen the same hunger for the Word of God. He
believed God wanted him to obtain a thirty- thousand-seat tent
to be carried all over Africa for crusades.

The vision for Africa that had begun as a gentle breeze now
was a hurricane in his heart. He confesses, however, that as the
size of the tent project became embedded in his spirit, he had
to switch off his mind — it was just too much to grasp. But he
received great encouragement from reading in the Book of
Romans that Abraham staggered not at the promise of God
(Rom. 4:20).

The thought struck him, "It is not that we cannot stagger, but
that we must not stagger in staggering situations." He
determined then to go ahead with the project, and not to doubt
but to trust God to provide the money.

An engineer and dedicated Christian, J.J. Swanepoel got
down to the task of designing the tent, with no existing
structure on which to model it. The size envisaged was far
greater than any mobile tent man had ever designed, although
a similar-sized stationary tent had been erected in Saudi
Arabia.

The scale model made from the first drawings looked more
like a spider's web with cables and ropes suspended from giant
poles than it did a tent. The roof level was low, however, and
except for the forest of hanging cables, the design was much
like a conventional tent. The cost, however, would run more
than a million dollars for construction, transportation,
electricity, and other accessories needed. The fabric, of course,
would have to be manufactured overseas. Negotiations began

with companies in Hong Kong and in Milan, Italy.

Because of the novelty of such a tent, the Italian firm was
prepared to cut its profits to get the job, so the engineer made
several trips to Italy for talks. The Italians thought it would be
possible to erect the suspension tent on the road in six to eight
hours, using a crew of thirty men and up to a thousand pegs to
anchor it. But, after some necessary design changes, even
Brother Swanepoel admitted, "It is obvious that we
underestimated the size of the engineering feat."

While the tent was being designed, a string of rallies and
crusades were held with many souls saved followed by many
supernatural healings, such as a hunchback being straightened
as a young girl was healed of Sherman's disease. The focal
point of that period, however, was the five-month campaign in
Zimbabwe in 1980.

During Reinhard's last visit to that country in 1975, there
was still a lot of fighting going on. He had seen the ravages of
war and the persecution many Christians were suffering. After
that, he had been under pressure to hold a crusade, but had
refused because he felt the time was not right. In 1980,
however, he had a witness from the Lord that the time was
right.

Clearance for all the trucks and equipment had to be
arranged at the border post, but then the CFAN convoy rolled
across the wide Limpopo River. Forty local pastors from various
denominations joined together to support the crusade and
supplied a thousand workers to help with counseling and
follow-up work.

After years of armed struggle, there was a real sense of
spiritual hunger in the land, and the team expected great
things. They were not disappointed. After only three nights in
the first location, the yellow tent was overflowing. The altar
call the first night was the largest they had ever seen. At this
point, they had to move the crusade to the thirty-thousand-seat
sports stadium nearby. It was mid-winter and chilly at night,
but that did not seem to stop the people. The tent was left up
and used as temporary living quarters by people coming from

distant areas. They cooked their meals on small fires outside
the tent and turned the benches into sleeping platforms at
night.

On the last night of that first meeting, some five thousand
people came forward to receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit.
The night air was filled with the voices of thousands praising
God in heavenly tongues. Many lay on the ground oblivious. It
was a Day of Pentecost for Harare, Zimbabwe.

At the second location, a school principal gave this eye¬
witness account:

"When the advertisements first came out, people were not
overly impressed. We had heard about so-called 'miracle
workers' before, but nothing had happened. After Pastor
Bonnke preached, however, it was clear that he was endued
with power. The demonstration of the power of God through
healings and salvation stunned the multitudes.

"I saw drunks giving their lives to God, drug addicts
throwing away drugs and cigarettes, and witchdoctors
renouncing their profession and throwing the 'magic
medicines' onto the platform — an experience never seen here
before."

As the five-month crusade went on in various locations, work
continued slowly on the tent. Tests were carried out on the
circular model, which proved unsatisfactory in high wind. Back
on the drawing boards, the round tent now became an oblong
tent. A thirteenth mast was added, but this caused problems
and later was eliminated. An American engineering firm,
Geiger and Burger Associates, was now involved with Brother
Swanepoel. Also, of course, costs had started to climb, partly
because of inflation and partly because the usual plastic fabric
had been replaced with a glassfiber cloth coated with silicone
rubber. The new fabric would not stretch and was admirably
suited to the tension structure design. The original estimate of
ten or twelve trucks also had been revised upward to nineteen,
which alone cost more than a million dollars.

Reinhard had thought at first that eighteen months would
see the tent completed, but in the end, it took more than three

years. It was 1984 before the tent was dedicated. A pioneer
project, this was like building a cavernous sports stadium, then
folding it all up neatly, putting it away in containers, unpacking
it at another place, and putting it all together again. The
engineers admitted later there were times when they doubted
if it could ever be done. In the meantime, the crusades
continued.

The Soweto Witchdoctor

Reinhard had received many calls urging him to hold a
campaign in the Soweto area. Since the bicycle brigade mission
in 1975, he had gotten a negative answer from the Lord when
he prayed about going to the "poor man" at the gates of
Johannesburg. In March 1981, however, he was given a green
light from the Holy Spirit. The welcome and response were
overwhelming, and after a three-week break, the crusade
continued in April and May. The first few nights, the crowds
were small.

The breakthrough was the salvation of the woman who had
been Soweto's chief witchdoctor for ten years. Actually, her
influence had spread beyond the borders of South Africa. The
congregation stared in disbelief as she shuffled down the aisle
and called for a knife to cut off the strings of beads entwined
around her colorful dress, the goatskin bracelets, and the
fetishes that were the earmarks of her office. The news of her
conversion spread like wildfire among the thousands of
workers who travel into the city by train each morning.
Although Soweto residents are highly sophisticated when
compared to those in rural districts, the witchdoctor still wields
as much power in the city as in the country.

The next night, the tent was filled to capacity, and the second
night after her conversion, the crowd overflowed. So they
moved the meeting next door into the sports stadium. The dark,
unlit streets were alive with people praising the Lord, and the
muggers and thieves seemed to melt away. White people, who
normally were afraid to venture into Soweto after dark, also
turned out for the meetings. Local church leaders were
astonished and thrilled. Deliverance from demonic forces
occurred at every service as the wind of the Spirit refreshed
and revived the place.

The witchdoctor had not been a servant of Satan all of her
life. She explained that shortly after her husband died, "he" had
appeared to her in visions and instructed her to become a
witchdoctor. For some time, she resisted but became seriously
ill. Visits to doctors and hospitals were in vain. She then did the

only thing she thought possible to regain her health — submit
to the evil spirits. The day after making this decision, she had a
visit from another witchdoctor who lived in Durban, hundreds
of miles away He claimed to have been sent by ancestral spirits
to prepare and train her for her office. Apparently very "gifted"
supernaturally, her powers were quite astonishing, and people
began to come from all parts of the country to visit her for
cures.

Unknown to the woman, however, one of her daughters had
been saved in 1977 and had been fasting and praying for her
mother's salvation. When the Bonnke crusade began, she
invited her mother to the meeting.

"I didn't want to come," the former witchdoctor told
Christian workers later, "I did not believe in the things my
daughter did."

But the daughter was persistent and kept begging her to
attend "just one meeting." When she saw her mother go
forward, she cried for joy and thanked God. "I had wept many
tears before the Lord for my mother. God was faithful. Now I
have a new mother," she said.

To prove that her past was wiped out and her sins forgiven,
the erstwhile witchdoctor burned all her dry bones, medicines,
herbs, and other black magic charms in a huge bonfire which
was publicized by a local Sunday newspaper. The front page
photograph of the fetishes going up in flames was a remarkable
testimony of God's grace and of His power to overcome the
forces of darkness and to bring light and life into a life ruled by
fear and evil spirits.

Reports of healings and conversions were many, as was usual
in the crusades, and one Saturday night, more than three
thousand people came forward to receive the baptism in the
Holy Spirit. It looked as if a giant wave had swept through the
stadium as people were knocked off their feet. Miracles,
spiritual and physical, were the only topic of discussion, and
once and for all, Soweto knew that Jesus is alive. Even one
minister discovered he was not saved and gave his heart to the
Lord!

On May 10, 1981, the final service of a truly sensational
crusade ended. The tent came down, the masts were loaded up,
and the trucks rumbled along the streets and back to the
Witfield headquarters. Reinhard would be returning to Soweto,
however, for a third crusade, and this time he would set up the
world's largest tent.

"I Will Give You a Sign"

The site where the factory to build the tent had been
constructed proved too small, and a neighboring plot of ground
had to be purchased. The first shipment of the new cloth
covering had arrived, and the steel work was going ahead on
schedule. Funds had to be there to pay for each phase of work.

Reinhard wrote his prayer partners: The Lord has graciously
supplied our needs so that we are able to continue construction
on the new tent as fast as possible. My policy is, and remains,
that we are not taking loans from banks or private individuals,
but trust God, to whom silver and gold belongs."

The financing of the phenomenal tent was a miracle from its
earliest beginning. In Germany once, Reinhard had taken with
him a brochure and a model of the tent to display in the foyer
of the auditorium. He shared his vision with the people, but
made it very clear he was not there to beg for money.

"I don't ask for money," he told them, "I pray for it."

Throughout his ministry he has emphasized that people
giving money to the project were not giving it to him, but to
God.

During a prophetic utterance in that meeting, the Lord said,
"I will give a sign today."

Reinhard knew the message mainly had to do with signs of
healing and deliverance and was for the congregation, but he
hastily whispered, "Lord, you know I need a sign as well." The
financial pressures of the project plus the expansion of the
ministry were beginning to be heavy.

After the service, a woman came up to him who had been
saved the year before in one of his services. She said, "God has
told me to give you some money for your new tent. I was sick at
home and could not get to this conference, but last night I had
a dream. I saw you stand and wave. I jumped out of bed, got
into my car, and here I am. Here is a check for $12,500."

With that, she disappeared, while Reinhard stood open-
mouthed, gaping at the check in his hand. Up to that time, it
was the largest single donation he had ever received. He had
received his sign from the Lord.

He made three other overseas visits in 1981, to Birmingham,
England; to David Mainse's 100 Huntley Street television
program in Toronto, Canada; and to visit his sister in Calcutta,
India. In Toronto, Mainse gave Reinhard an opportunity to
make an appeal on the air. Instead of a financial appeal, the
German evangelist made a spiritual appeal, "Pray for me. Pray
for our ministry, and pray for the lost souls of Africa." Mainse,
however, later raised $30,000 for the tent project.

Reinhard' s only sister, Felicia, had qualified as a nurse and
married an Indian doctor, Ronald Shaw. Both had joined Mark
Buntain's famous mission in Calcutta. Before he arrived,
Reinhard had been warned that the city of starving and dying
millions also was the graveyard of great evangelists.

He said, "Well, I don't have to worry. I'm not a great
evangelist."

Invited to preach in one of the city's largest Pentecostal
churches, he was warned again not to expect miracles or
anything great. His hosts said, "It must be the oppression
which hangs over the city." Reinhard went to his room to pray,
"Lord, they say they don't see miracles here. That is why I want
to see miracles here in the name of Jesus."

When he walked into the church, he caught the scent of
battle, not the scent of evil. It was something like a duel, so he
didn't waste any time parrying with his opponent. He went
straight onto the offensive and preached on faith. Soon there
were "hallelujah's" ringing through the church. At the close, he
called for the sick to come forward, specifically the blind. An
elderly woman was ushered up to the front "as blind as a
stone." He learned later that she was a "regular customer" for
all visiting preachers.

With every eye in the church on him, he laid his hands on her
eyes and prayed, "In the name of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
blind eyes open."

He stepped back, and she screamed, "I see, I see."

The pastors began to rejoice, and there was a move of the
Holy Spirit that reminded him of the waves of power he had
become accustomed to in southern Africa.

On the flight home, he met a young Buddhist businessman
from Taiwan and they spent several hours talking about Jesus.
By the time they parted at Jan Smuts Airport, the man was
asking about how to receive Jesus, so Reinhard invited him
over for dinner. Afterwards, the two knelt down and the man
accepted Jesus as his personal Savior.

Also in 1981, there was a crusade in Zambia which meant
rolling the convoy of trucks almost twelve hundred miles across
Zimbabwe, the Zambesi River, and Zambia to Livingstone near
the magnificent Victoria Falls. The crusade resulted in more
than eleven thousand decisions for Christ, also an opportunity
to talk with and pray for President Kaunda at the Zambia State
House. A weary team returned to Witfield in December for a
well-earned rest.

Progress was being made on the tent — not as fast as
Reinhard would have liked — but at least there was progress.
One of the seven-story masts had been raised, and he daringly
climbed to the top of it. The rest of the masts and most of the
steelwork had been fabricated, leaving only the welding to be
done. More material had arrived from the United States, and
the arduous task of glueing the computer-patterned panels
together was beginning. A pressing need was a little over three
miles of steel cable, which alone would cost about $45,000. The
rest of the fabric also was expected in 1982. By the grace of
God, the accounts were being met as Christians all over the
world contributed to the project.

Because of its unique character, the project was being
carried out by a small crew, which meant it was taking much
longer than expected. The normal crusade expenditure, the
upkeep and transport of the existing yellow tent, had to be
sustained as well. In addition to finances, the evangelist's
workload has increased each year. His first visit of 1982 was to
Zaire where he met with church leaders and a man known to
most Pentecostal Christians simply as Brother Alexander,

Having been colonized by Belgians, Zaire has a strong
Roman Catholic background, but today a vibrant evangelical
witness is sweeping through the country. In one area alone

there were eighty-two Pentecostal churches, with more than
twenty-five hundred churches having been founded in the
seven years just previous to his visit. The Holy Ghost revival
there, in fact, has many similarities to the Indonesian revival
described by Mel Tari in his book. Like a Mighty Wind.

The people apparently had no difficulty in believing and
expecting for even the most impossible miracles. That was how
the great awakening began. Brother Alexander, a man with a
very elementary education, began to pray for the sick who were
healed.

Then one day, some people brought the body of a young
woman into the service. Her fiance defiantly threw out a
challenge, "You say God raises people from the dead. Here is a
test for you."

She had been dead for four days, and Brother Alexander says
the smell was almost unbearable. But he called the little
congregation together around the corpse, and they began to
praise and rejoice for about twenty minutes. Then he felt
someone tug at his jacket and opened his eyes. He saw that the
corpse was missing, and he looked around and spotted the
"dead" woman standing among those praying with her eyes
closed and hands raised, praising God. When the people saw
her, they all ran out the door with Brother Alexander in hot
pursuit! The miracle shook the area, and people turned to God
in large numbers.

A Visit to South Korea

Early in 1982, Paul Yonggi Cho, pastor of the world- famous
Central Full Gospel Church in Seoul, South Korea, invited
Reinhard to visit. The evangelist was excited over the invitation
and says he had a thousand questions for the man with the
world's biggest church.

"I could hardly believe my own eyes. Dr. Cho told me the
church grows at the rate of nine thousand people a month. The
Sunday services were like an anthill. Beginning at 6 a.m.,
thousands of people flock in to hear the Word of God, then
leave to be replaced by another group of thousands. I was told
the church is growing four times faster than the natural
population increase. If the momentum continues, by 1990 half
of the population will be Christian," Reinhard told his staff
when he returned.

The visit was a tonic for Reinhard, giving him visible
reassurance that his goal — "Africa shall be saved" — really
was possible. "When I saw what Dr. Cho was doing and how the
Lord was blessing him, I said, 'Lord, I've trusted you for
peanuts.' "

He returned to South Africa with his faith level high — which
was just as well. Although the Big Tent was nearing its final
stages, a giant cash problem was on the way. More material
was needed for the completion of the panels, but the order
could not be shipped until payment was made. If the final
payment of $37,500 was not paid, the suppliers might cancel
the entire contract. In that case, they would lose the $87,500
already paid.

A little money came in and they waited for the mail each day,
expecting it to surely come that way. The deadline drew nearer,
and it was an anxious time. Reinhard drew strength, however,
from the fact that the project was not his.

"I never sat down and figured it all out. This is God's tent,"
he said, so he waited for "deliverance" to come.

Just two days before the deadline expired, the Bonnke family
was just sitting down at the breakfast table when the phone
rang. It was a long-distance call from a German man he had

never met. The man's agitated voice said, "Pastor Bonnke, I
cannot sleep at night ..."

At that point, the evangelist thought someone was calling for
prayer, so he asked what the problem was.

But the man continued, "Pastor Bonnke, when I close my
eyes at night, all I see in front of me is your face! I hear a voice
saying, 'Pastor Bonnke needs money.' Is that true?"

Reinhard's spirit began to ring with hallelujahs as he said,
"Yes, that is so."

The man asked urgently, "How much do you need."

As calmly as he could, Reinhard answered, "I cannot tell you.
If I tell you the amount, you will think I am being cheeky."

Back came a despairing plea, "Please, Pastor Bonnke, tell
me. I must know the amount."

"Well, all right. I need $37,500 right now," said Reinhard.

There was a silence, broken only by a crackle across the
telephone wires, then came a stunning reply, "I will transfer it
today."

The mysterious caller, a Roman Catholic, was as good as his
word, and the money was duly transferred permitting him to
get a good night's sleep! Breakfast at the Bonnke house was
turned into a thanksgiving banquet as they rejoiced at the
eleventh-hour deliverance.

When telling this story, Reinhard adds, "I slept like a baby,
because I knew the Lord would not let us down. Yet the man
who had the money could not sleep."

It was a spectacular and miraculous financial provision, but
the need had stretched the faith of many of the team to the
breaking point. Their "daily bread" is not always provided in
such a startling way, of course. With thousands of faithful
prayer partners scattered across many lands, money often
comes in small amounts. In his meetings, Reinhard trusts the
Holy Spirit to gently move the hearts of the unrepentant to
repentance and to, just as gently, move on the hearts of people
to give. He trusts God to supply all of his needs.

One pastor said, "When I hear Bonnke preach, my hand is
itching to give. But when I hear some other men preach, I often

feel like going up to them and asking for a little credit."

After the cash crisis, the hard-working tent crew took a deep
breath and plowed on at the task. It had been three years since
the plans were drawn, and even some of the staunchest prayer
partners were beginning to doubt the wisdom of the tent. The
tent itself was still within the budget, but the additional
equipment and transport, with inflation, had skyrocketed the
total need amount to $1,125 million. At the same time, the
headquarters needed expanding. An adjoining property was
purchased with a large house which was to be expanded to
provide accommodation for the extra full-time staff needed
with the new tent, as well as room for the transport fleet.

Several volumes could be filled with hundreds of fascinating
and faith-building stories of changed lives, deliverance from
evil, and physical healings that occurred during that period.
Each incident was very precious to Reinhard, but when he
looks back at that time, only one event is clearly etched into his
mind — the Big Tent.

Chapter 8: THE BIG TENT TAKES SHAPE

From the day in 1979, when the first sketch was made,
Reinhard had been unflagging in his zeal and determination to
see the tent project carried through to the end. At times, it
looked like an impossible dream to even the men who worked
on it, and as the tent neared completion, they began to breathe
sighs of relief that their work had not been in vain.

Toward the end of 1982, a large piece of land was leased for
a test site, and the crew began ferrying the steel masts, the
miles of steel cable, the truck loads of shackles, bolts, and
chains, the massive main anchors, and the precious roof
material from the factory to the test site. The test erection was
to involve only six of the masts. Test drilling had to be done to
find the right place, because half the ground was of a soft, clay
composition, and on the northern extreme of the site the
drillers hit solid rock. Once the anchors had been secured and
some hitches ironed out, the next big job was raising the masts.

Six giant cranes were moved onto the plot of land, which had
begun to take on the appearance of a wharf- side quay. At the
end of the appointed day, however, there was a collective cheer
as six of the seven-story- tall masts stood pointing heavenward.
Reinhard had been out of town and did not know the masts
were up until he caught a glimpse of them as he drove home
along the freeway. Something new and unfamiliar caught his
eye, and he looked again. Then it dawned on him that he was
looking at part of his Big Tent.

"My soul was flooded with happiness, and tears rolled down
my cheeks as I thanked God from the bottom of my heart for
this miracle," he says.

A lot of hard work and perspiration went into the job of
pumping up the fabric with a hydraulic jack, but by nightfall,
the tent covering was waving gently in the breeze with only the
job of tightening the cables left for the next day. A tremendous
rain storm with high winds and hail hit the area that night and
tons of water were trapped in the fabric, but damage was
slight. Technical problems developed with the section designed

for the pulpit and platform area, however, and finally this
section was dispensed with — which eliminated that thirteenth
mast.

All the activity had caught the attention of local newspapers
and, as far away as Durban, full page stories ran on the
"Seventh- Story Heaven," as the headline read. More people
were taking notice of the tent as a "world's first" of its kind,
including a British technical journal. After four years, the tent
— even if it was only a section of it — stood next to a main
freeway as a symbol of God's supernatural provision of finances
and a sign of the faith of a man who was prepared to dare
anything for Jesus.

Engineers wanted to carry out more tests, especially those
connected with safety before clearing the tent for its first
campaign. From the brief experience gained in moving the
masses of equipment from one site to another, and from the
time it had taken to prepare the site and to dismantle the
section, one thing became very obvious. Transportation, in
quantity, was needed very badly. The technicians also wanted
at least one more trial run before opening the Big Tent for a full
crusade.

Meetings on Four Continents

Reinhard's schedule continued to expand. His crusade
organizers could hardly cope with the invitations, nationally
and internationally The year began with a crusade at Pretoria,
South Africa, then he went to Australia, where twenty-six
Pentecostal churches cooperated in a meeting held at
Auckland. The local paper ran a headline that said. Fiery
Evangelist 'Plunders Hell to Populate Heaven ,' and ran
interviews with people who had been healed under the Bonnke
ministry.

Also, news media representatives were beginning to ask
questions about political attitudes in South Africa, but none of
the CFAN team allowed themselves to be drawn into those
discussions.

Reinhard's polite answer always was, "I am not part of the
problem. I am part of the solution. I am an ambassador for
Jesus and not for any country."

Back in South Africa, crusades began again in the smaller
yellow tent and in sports stadiums. One of these meetings, at
Dennilton, was marked by a considerable amount of demonic
manifestation, a reminder once again that the battle is not
against flesh and blood, but against spiritual forces.

In March, he made a month-long tour of America. While in
Houston, Texas, he received a call that the yellow tent had
been blown down. At the time, that was a serious problem
because it was his only workable crusade structure. One
consolation was that apparently no one had been hurt. He
spent an anxious night in prayer, not knowing all the details of
the accident. Later, he found that it had occurred after services
in Northern Transvaal had ended, but while new Christians
were being taught nightly as part of the regular follow-up
procedures. A fierce wind suddenly came up and, although the
crew immediately began to let down the side walls and tighten
up the ropes, they could not contend with the wind. Apparently
they were hit by a freak tornado, which is extremely rare in
that area. Suzette Hattingh, head of CFAN's women's ministry
was on the platform at the time and described what happened:

"The wind hit the tent, and it seemed to blow up like a
balloon and then deflate. It inflated a second time, and then
everything seemed to come loose. The main iron beam running
across the centre of the tent lifted. Tent poles also lifted, and
everything began to rattle and fall. It was like watching a tidal
wave in slow motion, a tidal wave of yellow canvas, cables,
lights, and poles.

"I have never seen so many people move so quickly to get out
of a tent. I am sure the angels must have helped them out. A
mast at the back of the tent twisted and collapsed, and the one
above the platform where I was standing began to bend like a
bow. I remember our organist doing a somersault over the edge
of the platform and disappearing into the night. Moments later,
I found myself almost alone in the tent, and in the background
an automatic, melodic beat — it was the organ."

Richard Walters, an American member of CFAN who was in
charge of follow-up work and now ministers in Nigeria, was
trapped under the sea of canvas for a while but escaped
unhurt. There was hardly any hysteria, despite the fact that
many mothers and children had been separated in the wild
exodus. Team members who visited the site the day after the
storm were amazed at the destruction and even more amazed
at the miraculous protection for the more than three thousand
people who had been inside when the wind hit the tent.

At first, it appeared that the next crusade would have to be
postponed, and it had already been advertised. Meanwhile,
insurers were called in to assess the damage. It was estimated
that the tent would be out of commission for at least two
months while the shredded canvas was repaired. Reinhard
decided to go ahead with the planned meeting and hold it in
the open air. Being April, the weather was still warm at night.
The only deterrent would be rain. The meeting was shortened
to one week as a precaution. Night after night, long lines of
people filed in to fill the benches under cloudless, starry skies.
On the final night, almost twelve thousand people attended.

Reinhard next headed for Finland, stopping over in Denmark
to preach in one of Copenhagen's largest Pentecostal churches

and to connect with an Australian television crew who wanted
to interview him, airing the message to thousands on that
continent. When he arrived in Helsinki, it looked as if he were a
candidate for general election. His name was plastered
everywhere, and as he stood on the pavement outside his hotel,
he even saw his name and photograph going past him on the
side of a tram car. Huge billboard photographs peered down at
him in the market square. The Finnish pastors had worked
tirelessly preparing for the main crusade scheduled in an
indoor ice stadium. He had never seen such wide publicity,
including a "March for Jesus," through the main streets.

All the publicity naturally stirred up the print, radio, and
television media, who turned out in force on opening night to
see the visiting German evangelist from Africa and to find out
why he was so popular. The press coverage turned out to be
favorable, which was something of a surprise. The major
afternoon daily newspaper carried the story on the crusade as
its main front page story the next day with a headline of Signs
and Wonders Today. At another location in Finland, a woman
reporter asked him to pray for her and was slain in the Spirit —
not an orthodox way to conduct an interview!

A popular secular magazine carried large pictures and a
report on the meetings, and one reporter suggested in his
column that members of the Finnish Parliament go to hear
Reinhard Bonnke speak. The news of the crusade reached as
far as Lapland, and Christian groups traveled hundreds of
miles to attend some of the meetings.

The stadium in Helsinki was filled to its capacity of ten
thousand people each night. There was one major difference in
the crowds, however. Unlike the more emotionally uninhibited
saints of the southern hemisphere, Scandinavians are much
more reserved and cool in their religious fervor. By the time
Reinhard left Finland, however, his enthusiastic preaching had
thawed out the Finnish emotions, and "hallelujahs" were filling
the halls wherever he spoke. When a gypsy woman on a pair of
crutches gave them to Reinhard and began to jump and run
one night, there was pandemonium as ten thousand people

forgot their inhibitions.

Night after night, the crowds thronged forward to give their
hearts to Jesus. Long lines of people waited for prayer. In fact,
the lines became so long that he had the people arranged in
two rows with a walkway between and moved down the rows
laying hands on two people at a time. Once he looked in back of
him to see everyone lying on the ground, and later quipped,
"For a moment, it looked as if I had parted the Red Sea!"

When he left Finland, there was no doubt in Reinhard's
heart, as he peered out of the airplane windows at the scenic
beauty of the land of a thousand lakes, that the blessing of God
had been poured out in a wonderful way. Now it was back to
the land of his calling — Africa — where his next major crusade
was a sharp contrast. The yellow tent, now repaired, was
pitched in Botswana, which was in the grip of drought. From
the crystal clear skies of Finland, it was a dramatic change to
the African scene with clouds of red dust everywhere.

The Big Tent Is Tested

Crusades continued in South Africa during June and July. The
Bonnke team returned to some places that had been visited in
1975 early in the crusade ministry. There were many happy
reunions with people saved and healed in those earlier
meetings. Several of them had established churches of their
own.

Also, in June, he accepted an invitation to preach at Ray
McCauley's Rhema Church in Randburg as part of a three-day
seminar on healing. There was only one problem: he and
several members of CFAN had arrived back home the day
before from a crusade where they had picked up a severe virus.
With family, friends, and colleagues interceding in prayer,
Reinhard was able to make the seminar.

He went from Randburg to Durban for a three-day preaching
blitz. Then he continued on to a rally at Chatsworth, where
some four thousand people gathered on a soccer field to hear
the Gospel of Jesus Christ preached in a predominantly Hindu-
believing area.

When he boarded the plane to return to Witfield, he was a
tired man. Although he knew he was pushing himself to the
limit, he also knew that he had to keep on going. The vision had
to be fulfilled.

Back at home for a few days, he was able to examine the
progress on the Big Tent. The site chosen for the first trial was
next to a large housing district where there were open grounds
for parking. The plan was to raise nine of the twelve masts and
activity was feverish.

August is not an ideal time to hold a crusade in that country
because it is winter and the nights can be bitter, but the year's
schedule made it imperative to run the crusade then.
Otherwise, there would be no test possible before the official
opening and Dedication Day, set for February 18, 1984.

A special service was held for the more than one hundred-
member crew and office staff the day before the crusade
opened. The voices of praise and worship were lost in the
cavernous dome of the tent and they barely filled the first three

rows of the center block. Reinhard told his staff, "The old CFAN
is dead. We are moving into a new dimension."

As foreseen, the weather during the first two weeks in
August was bitterly cold and obviously kept a lot of people
indoors and away from the services. Despite this, attendance
built from about three thousand the first night to an average of
seven or eight thousand. The several hundred responding to
the altar calls were "the first-fruits of a new harvest of souls for
Africa," the evangelist said. About eight thousand people
registered decisions for the Lord during the crusade.

The tent crew was satisfied with the trial run. They had been
given the opportunity to test sound systems and lighting, and
to check out the operation of a dozen other items. A lot of
practical experience resulted and they were confident that
Dedication Day in Soweto would not only be more streamlined
in operation, but would see the tent filled.

Of course, the Big Tent was gobbling up the major portion of
the ministry's finances. More transportation was needed, as
well as drilling rigs, generators, video equipment, and many
other pieces of equipment.

"God pays for the things he orders, and the Big Tent is not
mine. It is His," was again Reinhard's prognosis. He is a man of
faith, but also a man of works and prayer, and much prayer also
was being sent up for the urgently needed trucks.

The American Connection Forged

Earlier in 1983, while the tent was still being completed, the
kernel of an idea had begun to take root in Reinhard's mind,
and a new word dominated his thinking for the rest of that year
— strategy Africa was the harvest field to which he was called,
and despite the size and effectiveness of his ministry, he had
started to realize that he needed more allies in this showdown
with the devil for the salvation of a continent. He had a
yearning to meet like-minded men and to share his vision with
them, to gain their confidence and cooperation.

During his trip to the States, he had visited the famous
evangelist, T.L. Osborn, in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Osborn, one of the
all-time greats in mass evangelism, had campaigned in Africa
with his wife, Daisy, particularly in Nigeria. Reinhard spent two
hours with T.L. sharing mutual experiences, hopes, and plans
for the future. Then he visited Freda Lindsay's Christ for the
Nations Institute in Dallas, Texas, where he met with students,
many of whom were from Africa. He was impressed with their
desire to see Africa won for Jesus.

Out of the two meetings, a plan evolved. He was to host a
conference of six hundred of Africa's top evangelists in
Swaziland in October 1984. The meeting was to be called the
"Fire Conference." With this conference idea burning in his
heart, he went on to a conference in Holland, still busy meeting
and contacting preachers from Africa.

At one meeting, he exclaimed, as he often does, "We will
travel from Cape Town to Cairo with this Big Tent..." Before he
could finish, an Egyptian evangelist stood up with notebook
and pen in hand to ask, "Tell me. Pastor Bonnke, when will you
be in Cairo?"

The Amsterdam conference gave him his first opportunity to
meet Dr. Billy Graham, who surprised Reinhard with his
knowledge of CFAN's ministry. In fact. Dr. Graham told him he
had recently received a personal report of the meetings in
Finland which Bonnke had conducted not long before.

During those few weeks, valuable links had been forged with
Christian television networks in America. Films of some of the

African crusades had been flown over and the networks
became excited about them. Christian Broadcasting Network
(CBN), based in Virginia Beach, Virginia, contacted him about
an interview which actually took place some months later. In
the years to follow, he would appear on many American
television programs and at special meetings and programs,
such as Dr. Kenneth Hagin's annual Oklahoma campmeetings
held in Tulsa's large convention center.

Despotism Cannot Destroy Christianity

Following the crusade trial run of part of the Big Tent,
Bonnke went to Uganda for a three-day meeting. From the
moment he arrived, he was struck with the depth of dedication
of the Christians in Kampala, the Ugandan capital. While there,
he stayed at the home of a high-ranking government official.
His host had some fascinating and blood-curdling tales to tell
about Idi Amin's reign of terror. Many of the accounts were
first hand because his host had been an official in the Amin
government.

During Amin's infamous reign more than a million people
were murdered. Christians often had been in the frontline of
his demonic hatred for human life. In the midst of all the
carnage, Reinhard's host had survived, and at great personal
risk saved countless Christians from being put to death. Amin
had tolerated a section of the established church, but viciously
opposed the Pentecostal/evangelical groups. House meetings
were banned. The feared secret police periodically burst into
houses and, if people were found in prayer or with Bibles, they
were arrested. Amazingly, Reinhard's host had been put in
charge of religious affairs. When he was told of an impending
raid, he often would manage to get a message to the house
groups to flee.

The three-day crusade had been widely publicized, but
Reinhard and his co-workers were puzzled at seeing only a few
of the hundreds of posters which had been sent on ahead.
When they asked the organizers why posters were not on every
street comer, they found that Christian literature was so scarce
and the posters so attractive Christians were pulling them
down and hanging them up in their homes as decorations.

From the very first meeting in the city square, just a stone's
throw from the Supreme Court buildings, God's power was
displayed. Healings were multiplied. The good central location
backfired, however, and the next afternoon's meeting had to be
canceled. Officials complained that noise had interrupted
Court, and they had been forced to close their sessions.

The final meeting was on a Sunday afternoon, and about six

thousand people showed up. Ominous black clouds began to
gather and dust banks swirled toward the city while he was
preaching. Not wanting to skip the altar call, Reinhard raced
through his sermon and had hardly said "amen" when giant
rain drops began to fall. He and some pastors took refuge in a
parked vehicle, expecting the crowd to disperse. But the people
just stood, soaked to the skin. Apparently they felt they could
not be any wetter than they already were. The sight of the
bedraggled crowd waiting patiently touched Reinhard's heart.
He climbed back onto the platform in the rain and began to
minister and pray for the sick.

In spite of all the persecution and hardship, Christianity is
still very much alive in Uganda. The people were hungry for the
Gospel. As a servant of God, he could not turn his back on
those people. As his jet plane lifted off the ground, Reinhard
looked out the windows searching for a site where he could
bring the Big Tent and return for a full-scale crusade.

A Hunger for Spiritual Things

From Uganda, he was off to a month-long preaching tour in
Germany after a few days at home in Witfield. Reinhard has
faithfully returned to his Fatherland year after year. It has often
been painful to his soul to see the spiritual famine in his
country and indeed, throughout western Europe. This time,
however, he was pleasantly surprised to see a genuine hunger
for the things of God and to see the numbers of young people
responding to the offer of salvation.

"The young people are fed up with all the materialism that
has surrounded them in the past. They want reality, and they
are finding it in Jesus," he says.

While in Germany, the long-awaited interview on CBN took
place. Because of his preaching schedule, it had to be
conducted live via a satellite link-up from Germany. When he
arrived at the studio in Stuttgart where his end of the interview
was to originate, technicians were very curious to know why a
preacher rated VIP treatment with a trans-Atlantic satellite
interview. Such link-ups usually were only for politicans.

The interview, conducted by CBN's founder, Pat Robertson,
went smoothly. The Holy Spirit clearly directed the theme.
Viewers in America, waiting for the link-up with Reinhard in
Germany, listened to

Robertson talking about the move of God across the world from
the text of Joel 2:28: I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh.
Reinhard had not heard any of the previous program, yet he
opened his part of the interview with the same verse. This
interview opened the way for a hectic television schedule
throughout Canada and America in late 1983 when he and
Robertson would meet face to face over a luncheon that would
be of great significance to CFAN.

Back in Johannesburg, Reinhard gave the green light for
Dedication Day for the Big Tent at a two-week crusade in
Soweto, then took off with his general manager across the
Atlantic on an energy-sapping four- week visit to Canada,
America, and back to Germany.

As the year drew to a close, the urgency for the trucks to

haul the Big Tent became greater. Cost, of course, was the
main hurdle. Without transportation, however, the Big Tent was
much like a huge whale stranded on the beach at low tide. Ever
since a simple communion service at the trial meeting in July,
Reinhard and the CFAN team had been praying and believing
God for ten trucks by the end of December. Money for trucks
had been promised by several churches, but the cash still had
to come in. So the two men left in mid-November with a real
urgency in their spirits for trucks.

The welcome and response Reinhard and Peter Vandenburg
received across America was remarkable. They found that the
vision and the mission of the Big Tent was a major item of
discussion among American Christians. The television
programs where they appeared were a great success. Reinhard
was able to share personally with Pat Robertson much of his
vision for Africa. Robertson pledged a substantial amount of
money to CFAN for 1984, and another large amount was paid
over immediately. Cash for the trucks was at last available.

The Lord had an even greater surprise and blessing waiting
when the men arrived in Germany for a couple of quick
meetings. Some time earlier, Reinhard had heard of a fleet of
vehicles that had been ordered by the Libyan government but
which had not all been accepted. Now he visited the vehicle
depot in Hamburg and saw row upon row of new, six-wheel-
drive trucks fitted with hydraulic winches. All of the equipment
had been especially strengthened for North African conditions.

As he stared at the vehicles, he began to feel a surge in his
spirit, and he was not wrong. The Holy Spirit had led him into
one of the best financial deals of his life. The trucks were for
sale — at half price. All he needed to do was respray them, as
they were painted a somber military green. Not only was the
price an outstanding bargain, but the United States dollar was
riding high as well. The money contributed in America paid for
six tractors and ten trailers.

He could not help smiling and praising God for this
provision: "The swords of revolution are being beaten into
plowshares for the Gospel. Maybe one day these self-same

trucks will bring the Gospel to Libya."

Chapter 9: THE WINDS OF WRATH

The main focus for early 1984 was the official dedication of
the Big Tent. Inquiries began to flow in from around the world.
Christians who had followed the saga of its construction over
the years and contributed and prayed for the project wanted to
be at the opening crusade. The site chosen was on the edge of
sprawling Soweto with good access by road. Some initial
obstacles had to be overcome, such as stringent rules by
municipal authorities and some church leaders in Soweto who
at first did not want to cooperate. Those hurdles were
overcome by prayer and diplomacy and a spirit of unity was
forged for the two-week crusade to follow.

The Big Tent continued to attract publicity at home and
abroad. Even a New York Times reporter called to interview
Reinhard. Obviously there was a need now for long-range
planning and professional advertising, and an outside agency
was called in to design a new logo and to advise on nationwide
billboard advertising.

The preparation of the site for the pile-driving of the anchor
system and the erection of twenty tons of fabric went off
without any serious hitches. They had one scare, however,
when a torrential storm with large hail stones peppered the
area. Some of the roof panels had not yet been placed in the
proper tension, and because of the complicated lifting system,
it was not possible to lower them. The men watched anxiously
as the wind, rain, and hail pounded the tent, but no serious
damage was suffered. The crew became satisfied that the giant
structure would be able to withstand future bad weather.

Several days before the February 18 dedication, Reinhard
called a prayer meeting in the tent from 8 p.m. to midnight. All
of the technical and administrative staff gathered among the
sea of wooden benches and walked or knelt on the sawdust
floor to intercede for the coming crusade. During the evening,
a prophecy came through one of the team in which a warning
to walk in humility and righteousness was given. Reinhard,
obviously touched by the prophecy, emphasized again that this

was not his tent nor his idea, that the tent was the Lord's and
part of His divine purpose to save Africa. During the course of
his informal address to the staff, he also talked about the
necessity of giving one another proper love and recognition —
and added that ministries were going to be bom out of CFAN.

"Ministries will develop out of this Big Tent," he said and
spoke about the five-fold ministries. Not even he realized how
prophetic his own words were. Since then several men and
women who were at that meeting have left to pioneer new
churches and ministries for Jesus. It was an unusual way of
addressing the staff for Reinhard, who usually was stressing
that everyone on the team should submit to the unity of one
vision and to operate in agreement. That, of course, was the
vision of CFAN, the vision God had given Reinhard to win Africa
for Jesus.

As a grand finale to the evening's prayer meeting, the staff
joined for a "Jericho march" around the tent, ringing it with
prayers for the salvation and deliverance of all who would ever
step inside the mighty tent cathedral.

Dedication Day proved to be gloriously hot and summery,
and from early morning thousands of vehicles and hundreds of
buses began congregating at the site. A party of one hundred
and thirty-nine Germans flew in for the special occasion, and
arrangements were made for a translation booth to be set up.
Others flew in from America, Finland, Britain, and Australia,
while thousands more arrived from every part of southern
Africa. One group traveled a thousand miles by bus from Cape
Town to be at the service, arriving after lunch that day and
leaving immediately after the service for the return trip of a
thousand miles.

Officially, the Big Tent seated thirty-four thousand people,
but it was full by lunchtime that day, and people still were
arriving by the thousands. The program involved a praise
festival during the morning with the official dedication service
scheduled for 4 p.m. By that time, the aisles were clogged with
people, and on one side, the tent flaps were lifted to allow
several thousand more people to watch and hear the service.

An estimated fifty thousand people attended, one of the biggest
gatherings of Pentecostal Christians in the country.

The service was conducted by the Rev. Nicholas Bhengu,
who in his early ministry had been called "Africa's greatest
soulwinner" and who has now gone on to be with the Lord, and
the Rev. Paul Schoch, a board member of Reinhard Bonnke
Ministries in America. The main message was delivered by
Reinhard, who has never relished too much pomp and
ceremony. So his sermon, as usual, was a message on salvation
and some five thousand people came forward at the altar call to
accept Jesus. The service was a moving experience that few
who were there will ever forget.

Reinhard said, "When the Lord first spoke to my heart about
this mighty tent, the spiritual climate was not right, but we
went ahead and started the project. It is always best to obey
God. Today, the spiritual climate is right. Africa is hungry for
the Word of God, and this Big Tent is ready to roll through
Africa."

(His avowed intention to reach Cairo one day with the Gospel
tent is as well-known to his partners as is his determination to
achieve a goal. It would not be surprising to see another kind of
"pyramid" nestling in the sands alongside the Nile River before

the year 2000 !)

One of several foreign journalists present at the dedication
was Barry Chant, editor of Australia's New Day magazine.
Afterwards he wrote in an editorial:

"I am certainly glad I was there. ... I looked for the policemen
that one would expect at such an event in volatile Soweto. I
saw none." He also commented, "Bonnke read from Ezra 6:14
in the Living Bible , The Temple was finally finished, as had
been commanded by God — the completion date for the temple
had been February 18, the same date chosen for the tent
dedication!"

The service did not end until after 7 p.m. What a day it had
been. The event drew considerable international television
coverage, as well as in newspapers and magazines. An
American crew spent several weeks filming and producing a

program that was later seen on several United States networks.
Even a British BBC- TV news crew visited one night, and some
of their footage showing some healings was aired on prime
time newscasts in Britain and Australia, and in Zimbabwe and
other African countries.

The two-week crusade produced a rich and bountiful harvest
for the Lord in the form of some twenty- five thousand
decisions registered. A large number of healings took place,
although in comparison with other campaigns, the healings
seemed disappointingly small. As in previous Soweto crusades,
some witchdoctors were won to the Lord, One of them was a
small, brighteyed woman, Margaret Mphaga, whom it was hard
to imagine drinking the warm blood of a freshly slaughtered
goat in the initiation rites. But that is what she did, after she
went to a witchdoctor for a cure for asthma and was pressed
into becoming one herself "in order that no future illness or
harm befall her."

She said, "I never liked the idea, but I was too afraid to say
no."

She was brought to the tent by the prayers of her son and by
his gentle persuasion. A Christian for twelve years and a Bible
school graduate, he had been praying for his mother for the
past nine years to be delivered from the evil influence of Satan.
After she was saved on a Monday, her elderly mother was saved
on Wednesday. At the Saturday evening service, she brought a
huge pile of fetishes, stacked them on the platform, and made a
public renouncement of her old lifestyle. Testimonies like hers
hit home in the hearts of many thousands, and the people of
Soweto began to stream nightly to the brightly lit tent to take
hold of a new life.

Victory in Calcutta

On May 6, 1984, the people of Calcutta, India, were
smothering under a blanket of hot, humid air with not even a
whisper of wind to bring cool relief. The body heat of several
thousand people crammed together in the grounds of St. Paul's
Cathedral added to the oppressive discomfort.

On the platform, Reinhard Bonnke challenged Hindus to cast
aside their gods and idols and accept the Living God. His shirt
was stained with perspiration and his hair was plastered to his
scalp and forehead as if he had just stepped out of a shower. A
certain foreboding tugged at his heart, but he pushed it aside
for the moment. He was not going to be intimidated in the city
called the "goddess of death." He was here to proclaim life , and
nothing would stop him, not heat, humidity, nor evil spirits.

He had arrived in Calcutta after attending a Full Gospel
Business Men's Fellowship International conference in
Singapore. Reluctant to go to Calcutta, he had been persuaded
to visit his sister. When he arrived, he found that instead of a
four-day family visit, a four-day Gospel rally had been
arranged. Unable to refuse the opportunity to cast out the
Gospel net, he agreed to preach.

The four days of furious preaching stirred the city of nine
million people to shake off some of its squalid and pitiful
character as Jesus came alive to thousands of Hindus. A
minister of one of the city's leading churches said, "It is many
years since I have seen so many people respond to the call to
accept Jesus. This is the first time I have seen any evangelist
challenge the people to break away from their superstitious
trinkets that our people wear."

Reinhard' s brother-in-law estimated, conservatively, that
some four thousand souls repeated the sinners' prayer during
the four days. Some sensational healings also were witnessed.
One young girl's eyesight was restored instantly, and a middle-
aged man who had been stricken with polio, testified that
strength and healing had been restored to his legs. Those
testimonies were multiplied many times over. Each night,
crowds of up to two thousand struggled and jostled one

another in the healing lines.

Another remarkable fact about this mini-crusade was the
weather. It was as hot, muggy, and humid as a sauna bath, but
the expected rains held off. It had rained right up until the day
before the meetings and began to rain again when the final
meeting closed. In fact, a deluge caught the car on the way to
the airport, almost causing Reinhard to miss his flight to
Johannesburg.

Disaster in Cape Town

On May 6, as Reinhard stood in the humid heat of Calcutta
and began the victorious four-day meeting, the CFAN team and
thousands of Christians some ten thousand miles away on the
southern tip of Africa descended into a chasm of despair. A
wind, seemingly charged with the fury of hell, blasted across
the flats at Cape Town. In that wild, frenzy of destruction, the
Big Tent was ripped and torn into a hundred pieces as if it had
been run through a giant paper shredder. Shockwaves went
around the world. The Big Tent, less than six months old, had
been totally destroyed. More than a million prayers and a
million dollars were swept away by a wicked wind.

Vicious storms had been battering the Cape for the past
several weeks, hindering the erection of the massive tent for
the forthcoming crusade. Seasonal rains earlier than usual had
made the preparation of the site and the sinking of the giant
steel anchors difficult, but the hard-working crew had stuck
doggedly to the task.

The towering steel masts were eventually hoisted, and the
huge roof panels were raised to form the majestic cathedral on
a field next to the Cape Town suburb of Valhalla. Although wet
weather had caused delays, the real concern was the wind. The
Cape Flats are exactly that — flat as a giant table — and are
swept even on calm days by ocean winds from the Atlantic. The
technicians had been confident, however, when the site was
chosen. After all, wind tunnel tests had proved the tent could
brave winds of more than seventy-five miles an hour.

Even so, foreman Kobus de Lange could not help casting an
anxious eye up at the roof seven stories overhead as the winds
buffeted it and tugged at the steel cables. On May 5, a few
tears had appeared in the roof fabric, but these were repaired,
and by late afternoon, the crew was satisfied nothing serious
would come of those minor rips.

By suppertime, however, it was obvious that the weather was
continuing to deteriorate. The crew finished eating and
wandered back to their sleeping quarters situated on the
western side of the Big Tent. Some of the technicians decided

to make some further checks on the cream and red structure
which creaked and swayed as a fresh and strengthening wind
buffeted the panels facing the southeast.

Gerhard Ganske, a tough, sun-bronzed West German who
was in charge of the anchor system, slowly circled the
perimeter of the giant structure, checking the steel anchors
which were concreted into the soft, sandy ground of Valhalla
Park. He had been confident they would withstand any known
wind force. The steel cables, finely tensioned, pulled taut as
stronger gusts of wind blew across the open field.

Milton Kasselman, the chief electrician who was to die
tragically in a truck accident in Zambia some sixteen months
later, walked inside the tent whose size was still breathtaking
to the crew. Wooden benches balanced on tubular frames and
arranged in thousands of rows gave off the smell of a large
lumber yard. Kasselman stared up at the high-vaulted ceiling of
fiberglass impregnated with silicon rubber and at the seven-
story steel masts which appeared to sway gently in the wind.

His concern was for the lighting and sound system that he
had been responsible for mounting and wiring up with miles of
electric cable along with numerous control panels and
switchboxes. Attached to seven masts and at strategic points
near the platform were ninety-five floodlamps, each costing
$1,200 and all securely mounted. Except for the occasional slap
of cables against the material, Milton was hardly aware of any
wind inside the tent. The design was such that air was funneled
upward so there was no danger of wind slipping under the
dome to build up pressure and whisk it away like an umbrella.

Tentmaster De Lange and his West German understudy from
Stuttgart, Horst Kossanke (also tragically killed sixteen months
later in the accident), made an overall inspection of the tent.
Technically, all seemed fine. The anchor system, the steel
masts, and the cables were a hundred percent stable. The only
area that could not be checked, of course, was the actual
fabric, but experts had assured them it would stand up to gale-
force winds. They believed the repairs made that afternoon
were more than adequate.

Sleep came easily to most of the team that night in spite of
the violent gusts of wind and the bright arc lights that flooded
the grounds as a safety precaution. The area where the tent
was situated is notorious for its criminal element and few
people venture out after dark, especially on a Saturday night.

CFAN security guards quietly patrolled in and around the
tent and camp site. Midnight came and passed, and there were
no intruders — although noise from nearby houses told of
several loud and drunken parties going on. The temperature
began to drop, however, and masses of black clouds skidded
across the sky. In the distance, the dark outline of Table
Mountain disappeared under a mantle of mist and fog.

About 4:15 a m., some of the sleeping men began to stir in
their beds. Outside the wind had risen to a constant roar. The
trailers rocked to and fro, and everyone's thoughts flashed to
the tent. Kasselman peeped out of his window and saw the tent
seemingly still okay, and De Lange also looked to see that all
was well. He decided, nevertheless, to get dressed and go
outside to make a personal inspection.

Suddenly, above the roar and moaning of the wind, came
another sharp sound — similar to a whip cracking — and an
odd slapping sound, like material flapping in the wind. Security
guards came running and within moments the camp was a
beehive of activity with people jerking on whatever clothes
were at hand and running out into the cold blast of the early
morning. All the anchors were still secured, but the once sharp
silhouette of the profile of the tent was broken. A panel was
beginning to tear and flapped wildly in the wind.

At first, De Lange and engineer Tony Bath were not too
perturbed, thinking it was merely a repetition of the previous
day and repairs could be made as soon as daylight came. Still,
something pulled at De Lange's heart, and he decided to phone
one of the crusade committee members in Cape Town and ask
him to alert some of the committee to pray. He also decided to
make a phone call to Johannesburg to one of the consulting
engineers who had worked on the project and ask for advice.
By 7:30 a m., the rips were getting longer and more frequent.

De Lange was virtually keeping an open line to the
Johannesburg engineer, Stan Hughes, giving him a detailed
report.

Shocked and bewildered, the crew stared at one another. The
unthinkable was happening before their eyes. The material of
the tent was being peeled off like a banana skin. Their first
thoughts, of course, were to do something — but what? The
wind speed at ground level was moderate to strong, but the
velocity at the top of the masts would be far greater. It was
impossible for a man to climb the masts. Even if he could, what
could he do? The huge panels were being shredded into smaller
pieces.

The appalling truth began to sink in. There was nothing they
could do, except watch the systematic destruction of the
world's largest Gospel tent. By about 9:30 a.m. when a watery
sun probed the swirling clouds, the devastation was almost
complete. The proud tent was gone. In its place stood a bare
skeleton of steel masts and cables. Remnants of material clung
defiantly to the supports in some places, but most of the
twenty-two tons of roofing were now fluttering through the
streets and gardens of Valhalla.

Team members wept unashamedly. Nearly five years of work
dashed and destroyed in less than five hours. It was
unbelievable. Smashed floodlights hung drunkenly from the
masts. Amazingly, the loud speakers had suffered minor
damage. Even more surprising was the fact that the two miles
of timber seating had remained intact. For a few brief
moments, they had feared the wind would begin to lift these
and fling them around in the air. Mercifully, that potential
danger was somehow averted. The anger of the winds, so it
seemed, had been to deliberately savage the tent covering.

That was an hour of naked dejection for the CFAN team.
While thoughts of what to do moved through the almost
numbed minds of the crew, another group also was reeling
under the dramatic reports of destruction. These men were
members of the crusade executive committee, who had been
responsible for the detailed organizing of the outreach. For

nine long and hard months, a dedicated and devoted group,
they had been praying and working for the Great Cape Town
Crusade. Some three hundred pastors and church leaders had
bonded together in an unprecedented unity to work for the
success of the crusade.

A total of five thousand counselors had been trained by
CFAN with another two thousand trained by local churches.
Fifteen hundred ushers had been recruited and drilled in how
to cope with the crowds.

Another sixty volunteer office workers had been busy night and
day preparing the administrative back-up needed for such a
large meeting. Now the committee began to ask questions
about the future of the entire crusade.

At Valhalla Park, the wind began to subside and a crowd of
curiosity seekers descended on the sports field around the
stripped tent. Some laughed and jested. From the early
morning hours, people had stood at windows and balconies in
high-rise buildings and lined a nearby bridge, fascinated by the
destruction. Photographers arrived at the scene and a full-color
picture of the destruction blazed across the front page of a
Cape Town daily newspaper the next morning.

Among the people who began to pour into the area, however,
were hundreds of Christians. Throughout the day, believers
from all over the Cape peninsula made a pilgrimage to the
camp site. Hundreds knelt on the grass and prayed as tears
flowed openly. A CFAN staff member commented, "It is like a
funeral." Out of the prayers and tears came a wave of love and
comfort which rolled over the hard-pressed team, who had
been trying desperately to reach Reinhard in Calcutta and
general manager Peter Vandenberg on a business trip to
America. Unable to make contact with top management, they
had felt very alone and almost deserted. In the middle of it all,
however, the voice of God was about to be heard.

Encouragement From the Lord

Chris Lodewyk, head of the crusade committee who would
soon join CFAN in a full-time capacity was still in bed when De
Lange called him about 5 a.m. that fateful day An ordained
minister, he had been for some years a champion for colored
people's political rights until the Lord led him out of that arena.
He had been on the planning committees for the Billy Graham
crusade in South Africa in the 1970s and involved in planning
other major conferences. He was not too concerned after the
first couple of calls. He says, "I checked the weather and was
comforted by the fact that the wind did not appear to be too
bad. I believed the CFAN tech team would have everything
under control." But at 9:30 a.m. when he heard De Lange
bluntly say the tent was being torn up, he realized the
seriousness of the situation.

He then drove out to the scene. "I was shocked as I came
over a bridge and got my first view of the scene. I could not
believe it. The tent roof looked like big flags waving in tatters
from the masts. When I reached the site, I saw CFAN team
members holding their heads and crying and weeping as they
wandered around almost in a daze.

"The whole scene was depressing, and the noise of the
flapping fabric and the whining of the wind through steel
cables added a hellish dimension to the whole thing. In addition
to the eerie noise, the ground all around the tent was vibrating
like a continuous earth tremor," he recalls.

Immense pressure was being exerted on the masts and
cables by the wind's wild flaying at the fabric, and the massive
anchors were heaving and pitching, causing earth movements
all around the perimeter of the structure. Once the crew
realized there was nothing to be done to save the roof, they
busied themselves trying to strengthen the steel work and
cables and keep the grounds clear in case the masts collapsed.
They, however, stood firm and became a silent testimony to the
grace of God.

Although the wind that struck the tent was ferocious, many
locals even today are puzzled by the fact that wind speed at

ground level was not as strong as Capetonians sometimes
experience. Lodewyk says: "There are times when one has to
hang onto lamp posts to avoid being blown over, but the wind
that day was not nearly that violent. Yet when I looked up at
those masts, I still remember seeing sinister black clouds
swirling around. You could see that up in the air the wind was
really strong. Like many others who were there that day and
experienced the storm, I believe what we witnessed was
undoubtedly satanic in its origin."

Lodewyk called an emergency meeting for that night, and
the twenty-some committee members walked into the board
room at the Lighthouse Church in Parow, they were wrapped in
a cloak of depression. He could see a dead look in the eyes of
his colleagues. "It is going to be a dry, dull, and sad meeting,"
he thought, "like pronouncing the final rites over a victim." The
meeting meandered along for about five minutes, when
suddenly one of the men stood up and began to prophecy. The
board room became charged with a holy presence. The words
were:

"My glory shall be the canopy that covers the people , and the praises of my people
shall be the pillars."

Not one of them doubted that this was a command from the
very throne of God. To a man, they were convinced that God
Himself had spoken through His servant. From the depths of
self-pity and despair, they were lifted up and a sparkle returned
to their eyes and joy to their wounded spirits. The
transformation was amazing, almost like an Upper Room
experience. Immediately they made two decisions: the crusade
must go on, and it must be at the present site. The meeting
broke up with the room echoing with words of joy and victory.

But the battle was not yet won. There was still the weather.
May is notoriously wet in Cape Town, and the cold Antarctic
winds make outdoor meetings very uncomfortable, especially at
night. So the crusade committee sent very specific messages to
the prayer chains linked throughout the peninsula — pray for
dry, warm weather.

It was the following day before news of the disaster reached
Reinhard in Calcutta. As Reinhard boarded the plane on his

homeward bound trip, his thoughts were focused on Cape Town
and the Big Tent. He had a lot of questions on his mind: How
serious was the damage? What would he do about the proposed
campaign? What about the vision for the Big Tent? His battle
cry, "From Cape Town to Cairo," seemed to have a dull ring
about it with the flagship of his vision crippled and wrecked on
the Cape Flats.

When the urgent message had reached him to phone his
secretary, he said, "I knew in a moment that there was trouble
with the Big Tent. In the same moment, I had peace. The Lord
assured me that all was well." His first concern had been for
any injuries. No one had been hurt, but his secretary tearfully
conveyed the dreadful news about the tent. He hung up the
phone, turned to his sister and her husband, and simply said,
"The tent is destroyed."

His sister, Felicia, recalls, "There was no anxiety, no anger,
no real sadness. His attitude amazed us. He seemed to have a
calmness and serenity about him. He had instant peace in his
spirit and knew that God was in control of the entire situation."

Thinking back, Reinhard confesses that the peace that filled
his heart and mind was overwhelming. "When I lay down to
sleep that night, I said, 'Lord, I'm worried because I'm not
worried!' "

As usual, however, with anything God calls a person to do
that is out of the ordinary, some of the harshest criticism came
from other Christians. Some had expressed doubts about the
project during the five years of its construction. Even when the
tent was finished and in operation these critics continued to
hound him, so — as unbelievable as it seems — when the tent
was destroyed, these people rejoiced! They said it was the
judgment of God. Others declared there must be "sin in the
camp." Still others claimed God had blown down the tent
because Anni Bonnke had recently cut her hair!

None of this ever affected Reinhard, although sometimes it
got to the CFAN team who would find themselves doubting the
wisdom of building the tent and of planning a grand assault on
Africa. Reinhard, however, never doubted the commission from

God to build the tent and to take the Gospel to Africa. His
dedication remained unswerving even when the Big Tent and
the large transport fleet ate up money faster than a Las Vegas
one-armed bandit!

When he stepped into the foyer of the Witfield office, about
fifteen of the staff who were not involved in the Cape Town
crusade burst into song. To the strains of MWe're together
again, just praising the Lord," Reinhard and the staff linked
hands, and a tear or two came into his eyes. Soon the tears
were replaced by a holy fire as he shared his heart with the
staff. All doubts were swept away immediately. The word
"tragedy" was cast out and an air of triumph took over as he
boldly declared, 'This is just the start. The devil has
overstepped his mark again. I know in my heart that something
fantastic is coming. This ministry walks on miracles." There
was no retreating. The vision was clear, and the passion to
carry the Gospel from Cape Town to Cairo for Jesus was even
greater. He would not cower or hang his head in despair with
Jesus at his side.

Chapter 10: A CANOPY OF GOD S GLORY

When Reinhard had been told of the committee's decision, he
had concurred immediately. On the way from the airport to the
park, he turned to Chris Lodewyk and asked about the weather.
Lodewyk, beaming from ear to ear, replied, "Don't worry. We
have already provided the weather bureau with the report for
the next two weeks!" Reinhard laughed and the boldness of
faith rose in his heart. Yes, it was true. They walked on
miracles, and no hurricane or demonic attack could stop the
divine mission to see Africa saved for Jesus.

Arriving at the tent site, however, he was brought sharply
down to earth as he surveyed the stark steel masts poking
nakedly up toward the sky and the piles of ripped-up fabric
rolled up and bundled together on the ground. Inwardly
disappointed, he showed little negativity on the outside, and his
usual faith and determination rubbed off on the team, who
reconciled themselves to the fact of the disaster and began to
believe that victory was still possible after all.

One of the stalwarts in the invisible spiritual battle was
Suzette Hattingh, a one-time nurse supervisor who had been
miraculously returned to full health after almost dying. Suzette,
head of CFAN's intercessory ministry, led daily prayer groups
throughout the peninsula. She had developed a powerful
prayer ministry and, driving herself almost to physical
exhaustion, she exhorted and sometimes bullied Christians to
engage in intense warfare. Her prayer meetings are never dull.
No Wednesday night social visit with coffee and cake
afterwards for her! She wears out the royal carpet to the Holy
of Holies, pleading, interceding, and smashing down the
strongholds of Satan that try to block the way. During those
thirteen days before the crusade opened, she charged up
thousands of Christians to pray and believe for a miracle in the
weather.

And a miracle it had to be. Every Christian involved clung to
the promise of the prophecy that had come forth at the board
meeting. Other "words" of encouragement flowed at the prayer

meetings, and a genuine spirit of expectancy prevailed. Cape
Town, however, was not the only place where spiritual battles
were being waged. The news had spread countrywide, and
caller after caller kept the Witfield exchange busy with
messages of comfort and strength. Around the country, pastors
and ministries began to pray and intercede after the first shock
and the tears were over.

A lot of concern, of course, was for the replacement of the
tent. Was it insured? Was it possible to replace it soon?
Reinhard assured his prayer partners that the tent was fully
insured and that a replacement would be shipped out from
America within months. Vandenberg, in America at the time,
had preliminary talks with the manufacturers and insurance
brokers, who gave a positive indication that the million-dollar
claim would be met. This helped boost morale at the time,
although later it was discovered that the claim was far more
involved. Even at the time this book is being published, the
CFAN claims have not been settled.

Many locals scoffed at the folly of the announcements that
the meeting was to go ahead, come rain, wind, or cold. After
all, who would sit in soaking rain and wind in nearly zero
temperatures? Critics predicted failure for the crusade. Each
morning at 5 a.m., Suzette and her loyal and devoted team rose
to pray. Each morning, however, as they looked out through the
curtains, the same grey, wet scene met their eyes. The weather,
it seemed, got worse. In fact, the storms that battered the Cape
the week before the crusade were described as "the worst in
living memory."

On the day the crusade was to begin, the skies still looked
like a watery sponge, but by afternoon a few patches of blue
began to show in the grey heavens. By midday, rain had ceased
around the park — although rain was reported only a few miles
away. Yet it stayed dry at the crusade site. That miracle was
reproduced night after night and day after day. Not one day
after the meeting started was there not some blue "canopy"
over the Valhalla Park sports ground. The weather had changed
abruptly.

Warm air filtered in for the next three weeks, and the Cape
Peninsula basked under the most gloriously warm and sunny
skies. Puzzled weather experts described it as an "Indian
summer." On only one evening was there a slight drizzle which
actually came as a grateful relief, because hundreds of
thousands of feet and thousands of vehicles had pulverized the
ground into a fine, powdery dust which rose in great clouds
around the sports field.

That first afternoon as the sun peeped through the grey
skies, people began to arrive in dribbles which soon became a
stream. By 3 p.m., the stream of people was a flood. Buses
jostled through the congested traffic all afternoon bringing
crowds to attend, and by the time Reinhard took the
microphone, most of the wooden benches were filled. First-day
estimates were put at twenty-five thousand people. A spirit of
joy and praise filled their hearts. The Lord had honored His
Word. This was undoubtedly going to be a great crusade
demonstrating the glory of the Lord to the people of Cape
Town.

By the third night when the crowds reached an estimated
forty thousand, the ushers and security team were almost
thankful not to be confined by the tent which could only seat
thirty-four thousand under its canopy. The second Sunday
produced an attendance of sixty thousand, yet God was going
to do better than that. On the third Sunday, which was to have
been the final day of the meeting, some seventy-three thousand
people attended. At that point, it seemed impossible to close, so
Reinhard extended the crusade by three more days. The final
night, God shoe-horned in a crowd of seventy-five thousand!

Response to altar calls during those nineteen days had been
listed at twenty-nine thousand. The impact was tremendous.
Cape Town was gripped by "Jesus fever." People who had been
too terrified to put a foot in Valhalla came to see what was
happening. The suburb's nickname among locals was "Kill-Me-
Quick" because of its dreadful record for crime and death. Yet
during the duration of the crusade, not a single case of violent
crime was reported to the police. Several senior police officers.

puzzled by the sudden and dramatic drop in the crime rate,
came to see for themselves the impact the Gospel was having
on the people.

Everywhere the love of God gripped the hearts of the people.
Whole rows of houses became Christian homes overnight as
neighbors brought neighbors to the crusade and saw friends
and relatives saved. Mighty waves of healing flowed through
the crowd as well. One man from the reserved area, where
people were so ill as to be carried in on mattresses, was so
overwhelmed by his healing that he refused a seat. He spent
the rest of the service walking up and down lost in wonder and
awe. The feelings of the crowds at the miracles erupted into
"the pillars of praise under a canopy of God's glory." At times,
the platform resembled a hospital workshop, cluttered with
wheel chairs and crutches, and with walking sticks decorating
the front railings.

Reports of criminals and gangsters coming to Christ were a
daily occurrence, and knives, revolvers, blunt instruments, and
piles of stolen property were turned in by those who found new
life in Jesus.

A young Moslem couple on a traditional journey to Mecca,
the holy city of Islam, attended the meeting hoping to get
Reinhard to give them a blessing on their pilgrimage! Instead,
they found Jesus in a glorious way and announced they were
canceling their trip to Mecca and going to Jerusalem instead.
From the time the CFAN team first arrived at Cape Town, the
Moslem community had taken a keen interest, visiting the site
and engaging in debates with the Christians. When the tent
canopy was destroyed, some unsubstantiated stories began to
circulate that Moslems had marched around the site and called
down a curse on it. This has never been proven. What is a fact
is that many Malay people, who make up a high percentage of
those who follow Islam, accepted Christ.

Several new churches were pioneered in the wake of the
crusade, and already established churches bulged at the seams
as hundreds of new converts were absorbed. For weeks
afterwards, local pastors spent more time in baptismal fonts

than behind the pulpits.

The Vision Is Raised to a Higher Level

In spite of the obvious victory of the crusade, the loss of the
Big Tent was a great blow to the ministry's 1984 plans. After
the official dedication, the first full crusade had been planned
for Cape Town as the first step in the implementation of
Reinhard's vision: "From Cape Town to Cairo." Plans had been
to next pitch the tent at Durban and then in Pretoria, both in
South Africa. After that the Big Tent was to move into
Zimbabwe, Zambia, Malawi, and East Africa.

These plans were dashed by the loss of the canopy, although
at first, there were hopes that a new tent roof could be
delivered within a few, short months. It soon became apparent,
however, that the insurance claim was only going to be settled
after a long drawn-out process of investigation and possible
litigation. In the end, the loss did not seriously hamper the
great planned outreach. In fact, it catapulted Reinhard into a
new dimension of evangelism that would reach masses of
people he had scarcely believed possible. He still believes the
Big Tent is part of God's strategy for winning Africa, but he
readily admits that when the tent roof disappeared, God lifted
his vision to a much higher level.

Even in the first dedication crusade, the crowds had
overflowed the tent seating, and the people attending the Cape
Town meeting would never have fitted into the tent. As soon as
it had been erected, in fact, it already seemed too small! The
Big Tent's seating capacity had allowed for adequate and wide
walkways as specified by fire authorities. By reducing the
walkways, they hoped to be able to add enough benches to
raise the seating from thirty-four thousand to forty thousand.
Extra loudspeakers were planned so people could hear, even if
they could not get a seat.

The large crowds mobbing the Cape Town meeting had
struck a chord in Reinhard's heart. The people of Africa indeed
had become hungry for the Gospel. They would come by the
thousands to meetings, he believed, even if it took a miracle to
change the weather. He decided to embark on open-air
crusades.

There was still the small yellow tent which had been used for
years in rural crusades, but it was totally inadequate for the
giant city-wide meetings which he envisioned. The smaller tent
continued to be used in rural districts during 1984 and part of
1985, but its days were numbered.

The decision to go for open-air meetings apparently had the
stamp of Heaven's approval for it moved the entire ministry
into a new and dynamic role that would truly shake the
continent. Reinhard's schedule remained as hectic as usual,
both in southern Africa and abroad. There was some debate
whether or not to continue with Durban and Pretoria as
planned, but the pull northwards was getting ever stronger. A
small rally was planned for Bulawayo, Zimbabwe's second
largest city, in early October, with a second larger crusade set
later that month for Harare, the nation's capital and largest
city.

The thought of establishing a permanent base there had not
entered their minds. The Great Harare Crusade, however,
would not only confirm the decision to hold mass outdoor
meetings, it would dramatically change the team's entire
outlook and cause an upheaval in many of their lives.

Harare Breakthrough

Reinhard actually had been champing at the bit to move
north since before the dedication day for the tent. Someone
asked him how he felt then, and he said, "You know, I don't care
much for all this ceremony I just want to get on the road and
go north. That is what is burning inside of me."

Then, after the Soweto dedication crusade, he wrote to his
prayer partners: "The voice of the Holy Spirit is calling us
across the Limpopo River. Yes, we will move into Zimbabwe
later this year. Harare is the target city, and together with
God's people there, we will throw out the Gospel net."

The meeting in Bulawayo was held as sort of a warm-up, and
the results were outstanding as people flooded onto the hired
soccer field and sat under a blazing sun. Their umbrellas made
a colorful scene in the middle of the parched, brown grass. A
total of fifty thousand people attended with almost ten
thousand registering decisions for the Lord. Again, the meeting
was punctuated by some remarkable healings.

The planning and organizing of Chris Lodewyk and the
intercessory ministry of Suzette Hattingh were the backbone of
the crusade. A chain of more than twenty-five hundred prayer
warriors was built up with four prayer sessions a day. The
meetings began on this sure foundation of prayer and the
praying became even more intense once the crusade started.
To the casual passerby, the noise coming from the prayer hall
was like the deafening scream of a jumbo jet. Inside, people
were spreadeagled on the floor moaning and praying. Others
"wailed" against the walls, while some knelt silently and still
others walked or strode around in a wide circle. Some of the
warriors clasped their hands; others waved their arms in the
air like baseball umpires. The seeming scene of bedlam and
chaos, however, was in reality quite the opposite. There was no
confusion in the minds of those praying; they were engaged in
the most deadly of all warfares — pressing against the gates of
Hell.

The people praying came from all walks of life: women with
babies strapped on their backs, a father carrying a young child

while a four-year-old clung onto his jacket as he paced, a grey¬
haired white woman clutching her handbag in one hand and a
Bible in the other. A pair of nuns, far away from their convent's
cloistered silence, gamely indulged in earnest prayer, although
some apprehension showed occasionally at the boisterous
outbursts from some of the men who physically punched at the
air as they prayed. Amazingly, there was never so much as a
whimper from the babies.

This facet of the ministry largely goes unnoticed in the multi¬
thousand crowds, the drama of the huge altar calls, and the
signs and wonders which follow. The victories demonstrated in
the stadiums and large crusades, however, are planned and
executed in the realm of prayer. Here, unseen by the masses,
the real battles are fought and won. From the prayer halls, the
power of God is released to bring about the success of the
crusades — all to the glory of God.

At one of these prayer sessions, however, something
inexplicable happened. Suddenly one of the elderly men who
had been a devoted member of the intercessory group slumped
to the ground and died. For him, it must have been like falling
through a window into the very presence of God. For Suzette
and the others, it was a challenge. How dare the devil come
and pluck away one of their dear brothers! That was a purely
human reaction to the shock of sudden death with no one being
able for the moment to consider that maybe this brother had
run his course and was more than content to become part of
the clouds of heavenly witnesses. They prayed, praised, and
exhorted for five hours trying to bring about his return from
the dead.

Then they had to allow him to rest in peace and call the
police — who asked some awkward questions about why the
group had waited so long to call them. It took quite a lot of
explaining to pacify the authorities, who were hardly impressed
with the explanation, "We are Christians, and we pray for the
dead to return to their bodies." It was a great praise session,
those five hours, but later they had to laugh at themselves for
storming Heaven without first asking the Lord whether He

wanted such a storm in this case.

Nightly; the Harare showgrounds became the gathering
place for thousands. On the final Saturday as the meeting was
in progress, a fine drizzle of rain began which soon became a
sharp downpour, sending several hundred people scurrying for
shelter. Most of them sat it out in the open, however, enjoying
the much-needed rain. At first, it looked like a passing shower,
but the rain persisted and conditions became quite difficult for
those on the platform.

Huddled under umbrellas, the crusade committee held an
emergency meeting and had it very much in their minds to
close the service and hope for a sunny afternoon the next day.
Then a few voices raised in the plea, "We want the Gospel,"
became staccato shouts and then a general chant from
thousands of throats. Reinhard grabbed the microphone and
began to preach the good news. As the rain came down harder
and the faithful thousands sat drenched to the skin on the long
lines of wooden benches, he preached harder. The message
was on the Holy Spirit and hundreds received the baptism and
the sound of many tongues filled the rain-drenched air.

The next afternoon indeed brought nice weather, and the
final meeting was held with the rainbow vista of umbrellas
protecting colorful clothes from the brilliant sunshine instead
of the previous day's rain. The total crowd estimate for the
entire crusade reached three hundred thousand during the
sixteen days, with a total of thirty-one thousand decision cards
completed.

One elderly lady, who had arrived at the crusade blind and
walking with great difficulty, was among those healed. She said
that when hands were laid on her, she felt a sudden warmth
and blinked her eyes. At first, she saw what looked like distant
stars, then suddenly the harsh glare of the floodlights struck
her pupils. She could hardly be restrained as she tried to get to
the microphone and tell the crowd what had happened. She
traveled almost fifty miles north to her village the next day and
told the people what God had done. Within hours, she was
having her own revival.

A few days later, a CFAN video team and photographer
visited the village to see the revival for themselves. The entire
village of about one hundred and fifty people turned out for a
church service. The local school teacher confirmed that the
woman had been blind for ten years. Not only was her sight
restored, but that morning she danced for joy in the middle of
the village to demonstrate that her leg disability also had been
healed.

In a newsletter sent out the week after the crusade,
Reinhard reported on the tremendous results and related that
one hundred and thirty-eight churches representing thirty-
eight denominations supported the meeting. "The level of unity
was high, and this is the key to a mighty sweep of the power of
God," he wrote.

A couple of months later, a popular Zimbabwe magazine ran
a feature article headlined, "Who Are the Holy Crusaders?"
Generally, the article had a positive tone, although it did make
mention of the fact that "some major churches were not invited
— the Roman Catholic and Methodists among them — and
others declined because of the Pentecostal teachings of CFAN."
The writer then made these interesting observations:

"It was, therefore, surprising to discover that Roman
Catholic nuns, as well as members of other faiths, attended the
CFAN activities. It was even more surprising when some of
these people responded to the altar calls.

"When the 'miracle-working' Pastor Bonnke took the pulpit, it
marked the beginning of experiences that had to be seen to be
believed. The new converts were challenged to break away
from all superstitions — including ancestral worship — and
even a witchdoctor discarded the tools of his trade, which were
burnt. At one stage the rostrum resembled a 'rubbish dump' as
hundreds of converts threw away all sorts of items from
packets of cigarettes to lucky charms and bracelets."

The magazine staff also spent some time following up and
investigating some of the healing reports. It was interesting to
read the confirmations of these reported in a secular magazine.

After the crusade, Reinhard said prophetically, "In 1985, we

will move farther into Africa, pressing on until the whole
continent echoes to the name of Jesus. May God open our eyes
to the things that are imperishable," He is a visionary, and
although he shares his thoughts with his colleagues, it is
sometimes hard for him to understand why it takes so long to
cause the visions to become reality As the Lord has enlarged
his capacity to dare bigger and grander things, he sometimes
grows impatient with the mundane, day-to-day functions
necessary in a ministry the size of his that has to operate with a
minimum of personnel. He will not allow his team to shy away
from finding ways around any obstacle which arises. CFAN is
not a ministry for weak- kneed Christians.

A Brush With Death

A young British couple, who had come to Zimbabwe
especially to experience a major crusade, were caught up in
tragedy shortly after the crusade and experienced what
amounted to a really close brush with death. They were staying
in the home of Mike and Roz Oman of Youth With a Mission
near Harare when they heard a crash outside. Two vehicles,
one driven by a personal aide of Prime Minister Robert
Mugabe, had been involved in a collision at an intersection.

The young couple, Gordon and Rachel Hickson, ran to try to
help the injured people, along with Mike Oman, while Roz
telephoned for help. While they were trying to pry open doors
and drag passengers out of the vehicles with the aid of a young
doctor who was passing by, an Army truck came along and
rammed into them. Three of the "good Samaritans" were
pinned against the car wreck, while Mike just managed to
scramble away, although his lower leg was briefly trapped
under the moving wreck.

The driver of the army truck jumped out and ran. Both of
Rachel's legs were smashed. Gordon had a fractured pelvis,
and the doctor had been grotesquely impaled by a heavy steel
crowbar they had been using to pry open a car door in the first
wreck. Fortunately, another medical doctor stopped to check
out the injured and supervised their removal by unskilled
ambulance personnel who arrived in about fifteen minutes.

Prayer immediately began to go up for the three, especially
during the surgery that followed. The crowbar, that had
entered one side of his chest and exited just above the hip
bone, was successfully removed from the young doctor who
survived his dreadful experience. Rachel’s life was in danger
for some time, and the doctors gave her only a 5 percent
chance of living. Even then, they felt she might suffer serious
brain damage. To the doctors' surprise, however, she recovered
completely after a lengthy convalescence in England — and
much prayer intercession.

In fact, the power of prayer prevailed in the entire situation.
The aide who had died in the crash had been a senior

intelligence officer of the administration. When the news of the
accident reached the highest authorities, one of Rachel's
bedside visitors was Mrs. Sally Mugabe, who spoke quite
openly about the Lord. Rachel and Gordon then received an
entourage of top government officials, who got them flown
quickly to England.

The Hicksons have returned to Africa with their daughter
Nicola as part of the CFAN full-time staff. In spite of their grim
ordeal, they believe God has called them to work in Africa.
Their accident and what happened a year later are strong
reminders that the saints are not immune from vicious
onslaughts of the devil.

In the meantime, Reinhard's planning continued. The Harare
success gave him further confidence to plan other outdoor
meetings, and he looked forward to 1985 with relish at what
the Lord would accomplish. He also looked forward to the For
Inter- African Revival Evangelists (FIRE) Conference, which had
been postponed in 1984, and was now set for October 1985.
Lodewyk had been named conference director and given the
mountainous job of putting together the international event,
which was expected to draw more than four thousand
delegates.

Chapter 11: THE IRON GATES OF ISLAM

Early in 1985, Reinhard decided it was important to launch
deeper into the continent, and a reconnaissance into West
Africa was made. He and Peter Vandenberg visited several
West African nations, including the Ivory Coast, Togo (where
they met with the President), Ghana, and Nigeria. In Nigeria,
they visited Benin City, where Archbishop Dr. Benson Idahosa
has his headquarters.

Reinhard had met Idahosa, a mighty apostle and evangelist
in his nation, many years before, but this was the first meeting
of significance between the two men. Idahosa, who studied at
Christ for the Nations Institute in Dallas, has been responsible
for the planting of more than two thousand churches in his
country. He is seen from time to time on the three major
Christian networks in the United States.

Both men are of international stature but have very different
styles. Reinhard preaches the Gospel, then prays for the sick.
Idahosa preaches healing first, and then the Gospel. Both
achieve remarkable results to the glory of God. To the casual
onlooker, Benson Idahosa appears a little overpowering at
times, especially in the traditional, flowing Nigerian robes
which make his six- foot-one figure even more noticable.

The vision for Africa's salvation is nothing new to the
Archbishop, but to hear it again from the lips of this German
evangelist thrilled his soul. In turn, he opened up his heart, and
what he shared touched Reinhard deeply. Idahosa was planning
a crusade in the Nigerian city of Ibadan, a Moslem stronghold.
Usually as brave and courageous as an African buffalo, he was
approaching the proposed crusade with more than a little
trepidation. He had been to the city, and it was a hard city, a
city where Islam is entrenched. He had never experienced any
real spiritual breakthrough in Ibadan. Would Reinhard combine
forces with him for a week's crusade?

Reinhard remembers, "At that moment, the Holy Spirit
touched my heart, and I responded to my brother's plea. We
agreed to share the crusade costs, although I knew that CFAN's

purse was empty. Deep in my heart, however, I knew this was
the perfect will of God. So we agreed to share the burden and
the ministry."

Only one week in their schedules for the year was open for
both men, and that was only four weeks away. Could a crusade
be put together in such a short time? Both felt so strongly that
this was God's doing that they agreed on the dates, and
Idahosa immediately rushed his huge organization into top
speed.

On the flight back to their base, Reinhard and Peter had time
to reflect on the consequences of what they had done. Their
share of the crusade costs would come to about $100,000, and
both knew it was actually going to be a struggle to meet
salaries for the next month, much less another crusade budget.
Still, Reinhard had the inner assurance that he had acted in
pure faith, that there was no possibility of presumption.

Within a few days of returning home, he received a trans-
Atlantic telephone call from a California millionaire who had
become a personal friend and taken some of CFAN's ministry
affairs in America under his wing. A mild-mannered,
unassuming businessman, Barry Hon has a great love for the
Lord's work and does not waste words. The Lord had
impressed him there was an urgent financial need at CFAN,
and a check for $40,000 already was on the way. The Ibadan
crusade would go ahead.

Nigeria is a nation of some one hundred and twenty million
people. In fact, one of every four persons on the African
continent is a Nigerian! The visit to Ibadan, however, was a
very different experience for many of the team. Time has stood
still in the market place. There are no neon lights or
supermarkets with pushcarts. Instead, the housewives barter
and haggle over prices, while customers have every
opportunity to see the goods at close quarters, whether they
are fruit, vegetables, or fresh meat.

With a population nearing four million people, Ibadan is
reputed to be the largest city south of the Sahara. It is an old
city with a myriad of small buildings spreading for many miles.

In times past, it was a major trading center with the Arabs,
who traveled down from the north. Early Portuguese traders
also paid periodic visits to Ibadan. The Arabic influence is still
felt with 50 percent of the population followers of Islam. The
other 50 percent is made up of Christians and pagans.

The lifestyle of these people is simple, and there is
overcrowding and a lack of basic essentials. A newspaper
article about that time admitted that only 33.3 percent of the
houses had water and only 56 percent had electricity. Despite
their material lack, the people proved to be open, friendly, and
wonderfully receptive to the Gospel.

Reinhard's staff and Idahosa's entourage met with a most
unusual welcome. Arriving at the airport, they stepped onto the
landing field to be met by a glittering array of army and police
officials. Reinhard was escorted to a shiny Mercedes and found
himself the head of a motor cavalcade which snaked through
the old and often dingy city. He smiled and waved to the crowd
in the best American electioneering style, even trying to shake
a few hands along the way. But this was not his style. He felt
uncomfortable, especially with the obvious and striking
contrasts of wealth and poverty.

He was soon gripped, however, by the atmosphere in the city.
Hope and faith were in the air. Idahosa and his workers had
done a first-class job of publicizing the meetings, even buying
time on the local television station. The people were well-
informed about the meeting where two of the world's most
dynamic Christian speakers would share the platform.

They came by the tens of thousands to the Olubadan
Stadium. The local newspaper estimated one crowd at half a
million. Conservative estimates by crusade organizers,
however, cut that down to a guarter of a million. Nevertheless,
it was the largest crowd Bonnke had ever preached to before.
At the first meeting, the crowds gave them a traditional
welcome by taking out handkerchiefs and waving them gaily in
the air. During the entire crusade, Reinhard adjusted to local
customs and wore a traditional Nigerian robe, which he called
his "garment of praise."

Only those who came early were able to get seats in the
grandstand, but the crowds apparently were oblivious to time
or the inconvenience of standing on the open field. The
meetings were truly anointed by the Holy Spirit and were
constantly interrupted by explosions of excitement from the
crowd as people realized they had been healed by the power of
God. They stood for hours, singing and praising and worshiping
the Lord. It was impossible to keep an account of the miracles.
The local newspaper gave extensive coverage to the crusade,
even reporting many of the miracles and including photographs
of some who had been healed.

The size of the crowds staggered even the local media. One
story read, "Never in the history of the Nigerian Federation
have people gathered in such large numbers for such an
occasion. Not even the visit of Queen Elizabeth of Great Britain
to Nigeria or the historic Independence Day or any political
rally has attracted such an indescribable meeting of heads for a
single purpose — to be healed and recreated."

One day the crowd was so large that traffic police were
unable to control the congestion. Two officers collapsed from
heat exhaustion as they battled to direct traffic at intersections.
People and vehicles blocked every street for two miles around
the stadium. Police told organizers they had turned away at
least thirty thousand people. Among those trapped at one point
was Idahosa, who leaped out of his vehicle and began to direct
traffic.

The secular newspaper exhibited tremendous freedom to
report the crusade, unlike most of its counterparts in the
Western world. The reporter, obviously a Christian himself,
even boldly commented on the theory of evolution. He wrote:

"Words of God are hard to believe, for some. There are
millions who, instead of tracing their origin to God, claim their
origin from the ape. I don't belong to that school of thought and
neither do Nigerians. What is happening in the state capital is
the redeeming hand of the Lord, working to remove our
poverty, unhappiness, and other ills of our way."

Summing up the Ibadan experience, Reinhard said, "In all

the years of my ministry I have never seen what I experienced
there. What this crusade has done to my own heart is not
difficult to imagine. We at CFAN are moving out and into the
heart of Africa to capture this mighty harvest for the Kingdom
of God. Hundreds of thousands of people have heard the Word
of God in this crusade. I have been deeply moved. God is
fulfilling His Word. We will take the continent for Jesus from
Cape Town to Cairo. A mighty wave of faith and power is
sweeping over Africa as the Holy Spirit does His marvelous
work."

Winning Australian Hearts

A country which has taken Reinhard to its heart is Australia.
The Christian media have given his African campaigns wide
coverage, so it was no surprise when he was asked to speak at
the 32nd World Convention of the Full Gospel Business Men's
Fellowship International, held in Melbourne in March 1985.
This convention followed closely after the Ibadan crusade, and
Reinhard was fired up with a new drive and enthusiasm. His
stories of the Nigerian crusade held the crowds spellbound.

His dynamic preaching caught the eye of the secular press,
and an entire page was devoted in a local newspaper to an
article on his ministry. The article included five action
photographs of him as well as one of the dramatic crowd
scenes from Ibadan.

The article read:

"Each night rallies were held in the huge Melbourne Sports
and Entertainment Centre. It reputedly holds about 8,000 and
was full every night. On the last night of the convention, it was
standing room only. Officials estimated the crowd at more than
10,000. The big drawcard for the night rallies was a quietly
spoken (at least when you meet him face-to- face) German
evangelist by the name of Reinhard Bonnke.

"Pastor Reinhard Bonnke is one of the world's leading
evangelists, and in terms of sheer numbers converted, probably
the world's most successful in the past ten years. His home
ground is Africa, where he is literally turning that continent
upside down. And watching and listening to him in Melbourne,
it is not difficult to understand that sort of result. His delivery
is electrifying. His voice whispers one moment, then rolls like
thunder, rocking the cavernous hall the next. During the
Melbourne rallies at least 500 people went forward to be saved
each night, with more than a thousand the final night."
(Excerpt from a John Gagliardi article, Townsville Bulletin ,
March 1985.)

Interestingly enough, another writer was at the conference
observing Reinhard's style and impact. He was Owen Salter,
the editor of an independent Australian national Christian

magazine which treads warily when it comes to the
Charismatic/Pentecostal movement. Yet the magazine writers
and editors have a keen appreciation of those movements'
places in the Kingdom of God. Salter's comments, published
several months later, come from a man with an "orthodox"
Christian background. Under the headline, "Rompin' and
Stompin' for Jesus," Salter wrote:

"Reinhard Bonnke's preaching style wouldn't suit the normal
parish pulpit. It wouldn't be big enough. Bonnke likes to stride
around the stage, bend down low, throw his arms up into the
air like a triumphant boxer. He's celebrating victory — the
victory of Jesus.

"Even when he is hoarse with laryngitis and speaking
through a cranked up PA, his thickly accented German-English
accent has a penetrating quality. He is the only man I have
heard who could shout in a whisper. And shout he does. It is
one of his more common voice modulations. But Bonnke leaves
even the most enthusiastic American evangelist for dead. The
best I have ever heard from the Land of the Eagle was a big
black preacher named E.V. Hill, whose delivery never dropped
below 100 decibels. Bonnke used a wider voice range and
moved like an India rubber man with it.

"I encountered Bonnke in action on the stage of the
Melbourne Entertainment Centre ... it was a remarkable
experience. He preached for over half an hour, then invited
people to come forward to receive Jesus or to be prayed for
regarding healing or deliverance from spiritual affliction.

"It was a receptive audience — Charismatic brothers and
sisters from around the world, along with a large number of
local Christians. Go forward they did. No doubt there were
even some non-Christians in their number. But what happened
next was totally unexpected. As he instructed those still in their
seats to pray, he told the people who had come forward that a
commitment to Jesus was all or nothing. It meant a complete
break with their old lives.

"So far, so good. But then he said, Tm going to get you to
throw onto the stage your cigarettes, your alcohol, your occult

objects, and I'm going to stomp on them in the name of Jesus!'
Stomp on them? In the name of Jesus? Wait, I thought, wait and
see. An appeal for alcohol and occult objects at a world
convention of the FGBMFI seemed to me a little, well, hopeful.
Perhaps he had failed to make the mental transition from non-
Christian African crowds to an Australian Christian audience, I
reasoned. I was prepared to allow him the possibility of a few
cigarettes.

"Then an even more unexpected thing happened. He pointed
to a part of the crowd to his left and said, 'God is telling me
someone down here has an occult object. He wants you to
throw it up onto the stage now!' Nothing happened. Then, after
a few seconds, someone threw up a packet of cigarettes — from
the outside of the crowd. Unfazed, Bonnke strode across (the
stage) exhorting his audience to unite their praises for victory
while he proceeded to stomp on those cigarettes in the name of
Jesus.

"Not just polite little steppings-on, not even a vigorous
grinding under the heel, but a full-blooded, both-feet-off-the-
ground jump that saw him landing on that cigarette packet
with enough force to break a brick. The poor thing never had a
chance. But Bonnke wasn't finished yet. He continued stomping
as other items, unrecognizable from my position on the
balcony, were thrown under his feet. Then he walked across the
stage. 'God is still telling me that someone here has an occult
object to get rid of,' he said. A second or so went by.

And then, just as he expected, up it came. Bonnke stomped
with joy.

"I admit my reactions as I left the Centre were mixed. I
categorized the experience as a culture-shock — a little piece
of Africa had found its way to Melbourne, and I had been
unprepared for it. No doubt back across the Indian Ocean,
Bonnke 's approach is perfectly appropriate. Yet despite my
discomfort, I found myself admiring a man who was prepared
to go out on a limb, to stick to what he sensed God was telling
him, even if he ran the risk of looking a fool. Moreover, I was
sure, despite my scruples, that people had done real business

with God. I had little doubt that some had been freed from
bondage to smoking and to the occult. I believed this because I
knew that such liberation comes because God's power locks in
behind faith — whatever outward expression that faith might
take.

"I had the chance to interview Bonnke, and I asked him if he
experiences the same enthusiastic response in Western
countries as he does in Africa.

" 'No/ he admitted, 'I believe the reason for this is that God's
harvest fields are not all ripe at the same time. It seems to me
that there is a rotation in this matter, and I believe that this is
God's hour for Africa.1

"Is there, then, something that makes Africans more in tune
with God's Spirit?

" 'Africans do seem to find it easier to put their trust in
Jesus,' he said. They hear the Word, put their faith in it, and it
happens.'

"Well, what stops it happening in the West?

" 'I believe the origin of our unbelief is Western education. At
great expense and effort, it reshapes our minds in the opposite
direction to the Word of God. Then we say we cannot believe in
something that can't be proved — like the Word of God.'

"Yet Bonnke still insists God is capable of breaking down
Western prejudices. One way, he believes, is through trusting
Him for 'signs and wonders.1 'It's as old as the Acts of the
Apostles, it's the ministry of Jesus. It's simply a matter of
returning to the original pattern. The idea — often expressed to
me by Westerners — that it's a question of mentality is utter
nonsense and I resent it.

" 'I was preaching last year in Zurich and right in the front
row was a lady who had been confined to a wheelchair for 20
years. I was preaching — I hadn't prayed at all for the sick yet
— and suddenly she stood up. She was walking and crying!
Lots of people present knew her and her illness, and those
people went nuts! The stiff Swiss! No, it's not a question of
mentality. When God moves, people move, no matter what
culture.

" 'If God's people are bold enough to speak in line with the
Word of God, God proves His own Word. None of us needs to
defend the Almighty. A lion needs no defense. Just open the
cage!'

"I had seen enough to know that (Bonnke) was basically
right. I wanted to tell myself it's easier said than done, but I
couldn't help feeling . . . well . . . uncomfortable. Again. But this
time, not about the style of a visiting Bible-thumper. I was
finding out how disconcerting it can be to come face to face
with a man who takes God absolutely seriously. In the end,
returning to the 'original pattern' of the early church has to be
an all-or-nothing exercise . . . ." (Excerpts from On Being ,
November 1985.)

Return to Zambia

In August 1985, CFAN moved to Lusaka, the capital of
Zambia, for a crusade. The meetings had been scheduled for
evenings, but because of security restrictions, they had to be
held in the daytime. Despite the awkward hour of 2 p.m., it
seemed many thousands of people somehow got off work in the
afternoon to attend. Two hours later, people would still be
arriving, although Reinhard would be almost halfway through
preaching. Time stands still in Africa for most people.
Deadlines and keeping up with the clock are for Westerners.
Watches are not timepieces, but items of jewelry.

Here, demonic manifestations marked the services right
from its first day and continued through the final Saturday. Evil
powers would manifest causing people to leap up and start
wailing or writhing. Ushers would rush in to carry out the
afflicted person. Often it would take four grown men to carry
out one demon-possessed woman. Tremendous violence would
be manifested in these people as Christians attempted to cast
out the evil spirits. It was a common sight to see a counselor
sitting on someone's legs while two others held down the
person's arms and prayed for them. Still, the victims would
twist and buck, tossing their heads from side to side and
contorting their faces in gruesome gestures with glazed or wild
and defiant eyes.

Because the influence of witchcraft is still very common and
because most women — even in a capital city like Lusaka — go
to a witchdoctor for any personal illness or when a child gets
sick, some 99 percent of the possessed victims were women.
Marriage problems also result in visits to a witchdoctor. The
men, who work in towns and cities, tend to give more credence
to conventional medical care but make little or no attempt to
stop the women from going to witchdoctors. Many women were
set free, but many others found it hard to believe that Jesus
could set them free and keep them free from evil spirits. This
strong witchdoctor influence also means children are brought
up in an aura of witchcraft coupled with worship of ancestral
spirits. These influences are powerful forces that bind millions

of people in Africa.

Reinhard became so accustomed to the demonic outbursts
that he was hardly perturbed by the rushing of ushers into the
crowd to get to another possessed person. Even the crowd was
calm, hanging on to his every word and somehow sensing that
today they would find the truth which would set them free from
all the satanic influence, obviously such a part of everyday life.

Many people not attending the crusades were not so friendly.
One morning, four staff members of CFAN went to the local
market to get some photographs and see what foods were
offered. Markets in Africa are much the same — smelly, full of
flies, and rather unhygienic. Open sewers wind between mud
and grass structures with dingy interiors and crooked wooden
shelves on which a pathetic few tins of tobacco, stale looking
sweets, or bundles of candles are precariously balanced. Within
a few minutes of arriving and taking a few photographs,
however, the visitors were scolded by some self-appointed
market marshals, who destroyed their film and hustled them
out of the market.

A Zambian television crew arrived on the last day to shoot
film for a documentary on CFAN. Heading the crew was a man
who had accepted Jesus during the 1981 Lusaka crusade in the
old yellow tent. It was a thrill to meet him and know that the
fruit of 1 981 's crusade was still flourishing. The motto of
Zambia is "One Zambia, One Nation." In fact, after the five-
month campaign in 1981, the slogan might have been "One
Zambia, One Savior — Jesus." The campaign had covered
Livingstone, Kabwe, Ndola, Kitwe, as well as the capital,
Lusaka. That first crusade in Zambia not only extended
Reinhard' s vision but gave the team practical experience in
conducting campaigns of such length so far from home base, a
thing that has become common in the years since.

I had flown to Lusaka to report on the closing four days of
the crusade and then travel by road with the crew to
Lubumbashi. There was a tingle at the back of my neck as I
arrived in the land of my spiritual birth. Twenty-four years
previously, I had accepted Jesus in the copper-mining town of

Mufulira in Zambia, then had pastored Calvary Tabernacle in
Lusaka for almost three years. Later, I had gone back into the
newspaper business until joining CFAN in 1982 as editor and
publicist.

The morning after the second crusade closed, the trailers
were hitched up, the huge left-hand drive Mecurius Deutz
motors roared, and the convoy started sorting itself out on the
road through Zambia to Zaire. Hundreds of Christians lined the
road to bless and cheer us on as the CFAN team set out to
challenge another stronghold of Satan.

Chapter 12: ON THE ROAD TO ZAIRE

As the vehicles edged across the sports field, kicking up dry,
brown grass and clouds of dust, it seemed a pity to be leaving
so soon. The response of the Zambian people had been so
wonderful and joyful that it was hard not to stay on and preach,
but the task of caring for the new Christians and carrying on
the Gospel thrust had to be left in the hands of the local
churches.

One of the most commonly asked questions by the ministry's
partners around the world is, "What is one of the mass
crusades really like?" Even those who attend a crusade rarely
get a look at all the work that goes into putting on one of the
meetings. Each crusade, of course, brings its own problems as
well as its own blessings. The trip to Zaire, however, was
unusual in several ways, so perhaps it is a good one to show
some of the behind-the-scenes aspects.

The convoy — one minibus, three small closed trucks, three
travel trailers, one car, and five beautiful red and white tractor-
trailer rigs — moved out onto the Great North Road at 9 a.m.
that beautiful, sunny Sunday. Ahead lay a drive of two hundred
and sixty miles. That night was to be spent in Chingola, and on
Monday — after another forty-two mile drive — the Zaire
border would be reached. Once clear of the border, plans were
to reach the crusade city, Lubumbashi, by lunchtime.

It was a new experience for me, driving in a massive 18-
wheeler, especially a left-hand drive vehicle. (In South Africa,
we follow British driving customs and drive on the right,
usually in right-hand drive vehicles.) I soon realized that I had
to be the "eyes" for Don Preen, who was driving, when it came
to overtaking slower moving traffic. Trying to calculate the
speeds of on-coming vehicles and just how much time and
space we needed to get past another vehicle was something I
found rather hazardous. Don and I began to work as a team,
piloting our giant rig along the highways and along the tiny
byways of some towns. I will never know how we did not take a
set of traffic lights with us when we cut a comer a little sharp

in the town of Ndola that afternoon!

Trips through Zambia are always slow because of road
checks. The police are looking for gangs smuggling in hard-to-
get foodstuffs (mainly luxury items) and drugs. Zambia,
unfortunately is a dropping-off point for a major drug-peddling
ring operating between India, Zambia, and South Africa. The
convoy reached Chingola, however, by 5 p.m. and parked on a
sandy vacant lot almost in the middle of the main shopping
area. Chingola is a mining town. The nearby Nchanga mines
are the richest copper ore-bearing mines in the world. The
convoy formed a rough square reminiscent of the covered
wagons in old American Western movies, and the drivers then
took stock of the situation.

A stroll the length and breadth of the main street revealed no
public toilets and certainly no shower facilities. Fortunately, a
local pastor arrived and took the three women in the party to
his home for a hot bath. For the seventeen men, however, there
was not even a washbasin, much less a shower. After supper
cooked over a big campfire built right in the middle of the
square under the open, starry sky, we found a cold water spigot
in one corner of the vacant lot. So I marched off with soap,
towel, toothbrush, and tooth paste. It was rather an odd faucet,
set in the ground at ankle level, with a dubiously dark drain
beneath it and tall grass growing around. At least it was water
and, hopefully, fairly clean. For a person who had spent most of
his life in the city and was accustomed to chrome and tile
bathrooms, this was really living rough!

Four of us who had not driven during the day agreed to take
two-hour guard shifts. We slept in a steel section of one of the
tractor-trailers which had been fitted up with bunks and steel
hanging cupboards. About the best thing that can be said for
that sleeping arrangement is that one can lie down! The bunks
are hard, the mattresses are thin and rustle when anyone turns
over, and someone always snores. That night, the steel doors
closed with metallic "dungs" whenever the shifts changed, and
icy drafts seeped in through the air vents. The trailers usually
are left hooked up to the cabs, and one person sleeps in the

driver's bunk — causing the dormitory container behind to
sway as though in a heaving Atlantic swell every time the
driver turns over. The crew members who take these convoys
of equipment from one crusade to another deserve a lot of
credit.

Magnanimously I had volunteered to do the "dogwatch" from
4 a.m. to 6 a.m., but I had not taken into consideration the fact
that I would not be able to go to sleep by 11 p.m. The
unaccustomed and uncomfortable bunk and the noises of men
snoring and turning over — and doors opening and closing for
those on the earlier watches — finally caused me to give up the
idea of sleep and do the only useful thing I could, which was
pray. About 3:30 a.m., I gave up even trying to rest and relieved
Kevin Royston early. It was extremely cool as I paced around
the shadowy outline of our fleet of vehicles. Several guard dogs
were tied up on free-running chains at each end of the camp. It
occurred to me the dogs might mistake me for an intruder
since I did not usually travel with the convoy. Also, I was all
wrapped up and brandishing a heavy wooden stick. I decided to
give them a wide berth and patrol the outer perimeter of the
camp, but I need not have worried — the dogs were fast asleep.
I wondered who was guarding whom!

As the first tinges of red stained the sky, I wondered how I
was going to make it that day. I had not slept in more than
twenty-four hours but consoled myself with the thought that we
would be in Lubumbashi within a few short hours. Little did I
realize what a long and harrowing day lay ahead. The joy of the
Lord was in my heart, however, and that meant He would
strengthen me. And He did. After a breakfast of hot cereal and
a slice or two of plain bread, by 7 a. m. we were winding our
way through the early morning traffic and out onto the main
road, heading for Zaire. Although we were on the road again,
very shortly we had to make another stop. In a situation such
as this one where sanitary facilities are not available, there has
to be a stop as soon as plenty of open bush becomes available.
Traveling in Africa usually is under the most primitive
conditions.

After successfully clearing several more road blocks, the
convoy crossed the border and was met by Pastor Ronald
Monot, a life-long missionary to that country who was
organizing the crusade. He was at the border to interpret
because very little English is spoken in Zaire. The main
languages are French and Swahili. Also, he provided sleeping
accommodations for the ministry team and Reinhard at his own
home.

The convoy attracted a flock of children who had to be
restrained from climbing all over the vehicles. They took a
special delight in teasing the guard dogs traveling in a special
steel-netted cage on the back of one of the small trucks. The
weather grew hotter and stickier while the multiple pieces of
paper were cleared by customs and all the passports stamped.
Just after clearing the border post, there was another police
check point where Pastor Monot had to give a long explanation
of who we were and what we were going to do. So it was 2:20
p.m. when we reached the town.

Lubumbashi gained world notoriety in the early 1960s as
Elizabethville, the stronghold of Moise Tshombe, who had
employed a private army of mercenaries to help him gain
independence for the province of Katanga. Once a
cosmopolitan city, it had been well-patronized by rich white
miners from Zambia (then Northern Rhodesia). When Belgium
granted independence to Zaire and pulled out almost
overnight, the nation was plunged into chaos and anarchy. In
the ruthless struggle for control of the country, some of the
worst fighting and gravest atrocities occurred in and around
Elizabethville.

As the convoy drove through the city twenty-five years later,
stark reminders of that bloody civil war still remained.
Buildings burned out during the fighting still stood as desolate
black shells. A mile-long brick wall was pock-marked with
bullet holes, as were some of the walls of buildings. The traces
of war were not as striking, however, as two other things: the
swamp- colored minibus taxis that carried unbelievable
numbers of people and the hordes of children that ran and

danced along the pavement as the long convoy edged through
the streets — acting almost as if a circus had come to town.

Before the CFAN crew could begin to set up on the crusade
site, the central customs and immigration offices had to be
visited with more formalities to be gone through and papers to
be checked. As the vehicles waited on the street, continuous
droves of children passed. These children were very adept at
picking pockets and snatching any item left unguarded, as one
of the crew found out the hard way when he lost a sweater
slung over the seat behind him. We discovered the hordes of
children in the streets were a result of two things: a school
holiday and the fact that the country's birthrate during the past
few years has skyrocketed. Children now make up more than
35 percent of the city's seven hundred and fifty thousand
population.

Most of the green taxis were at least fifteen years old and
looked as if they belonged in a junkyard. The convoy often
looked like an island in a moving junk heap of green metal.
Windshields were cracked, fenders buckled or non-existent,
and each had some welding patches showing on the bodywork.
Shock absorbers had long since worn out. Sometimes the
"passengers" included live chickens, and at times, a taxi passed
with a passenger hanging on a side door, just content to be
riding home and not walking.

The tall towers of the banked floodlights of the stadium came
into view, and after some twisting and turning, the convoy
drove through some rusty corrugated iron gates and into the
sports grounds. On the right was the stadium, ringed by an
embankment of concrete seats and a steep, covered
grandstand under which were the offices and locker rooms.
Moving onto an adjacent practice field, the crew began the task
of trying to set up a proper, livable camp for the next seven
days. Later, we found that a lot of people — particularly the
children — usually spent a large part of their days playing
soccer on the fields where the convoy was parked. So we were
setting up camp in the middle of "their" territory.

The stadium was in a residential area opposite a large open-

air market. Within half an hour of parking, the convoy was
surrounded by a thousand or more young children who
unmercifully teased the guard dogs and threatened to overrun
the camp, if given the opportunity The loud chattering and
giggling began to touch a few raw nerves among the crew,
already exhausted and haggard from two long and tiresome
days of driving and a night of not very comfortable sleep.

Our first concern, however, was to look at the bathrooms. As
there seemed at first sight to be plenty of facilities for the
public, the crew was optimistic. When we neared the
grandstand, however, an awful stench began to reach our
noses. The reality was actually worse than the smell with urine
and excretion plastered over toilets, washbasins, floors, and
walls. It looked as if it would take weeks to clean the place. We
found, however, that the main gates to the offices and the team
rooms under the grandstand were securely locked, so there
was every chance those facilities were clean, especially as an
international soccer match against Kenya was scheduled for
the Sunday after the crusade.

Meanwhile, the children were becoming more hostile, and it
was decided to let the dogs loose. The man in charge of the
Alsatians was sure he could call them back before anyone
actually was hurt. The idea was simply to scare the children
into backing off a little way. The tactic seemed to work at first.
When the children saw the dogs were being loosed, they turned
and fled. On command, the Alsatians returned — but so did the
children! Then it became a game to see how far they could get
into the camp before the dogs were set on them.

A local Christian brother tried to make his way through the
throng of children to welcome CFAN to Lubumbashi.
Unfortunately, he got caught in the middle of a dog charge, and
his leg was injured. One of the drivers had to run to his rescue.
Then a crew member's young son, helping unload, fell and
badly wrenched his knee. In addition to the children on the
field, the twelve-foot-high wall near the convoy was now ringed
with additional hundreds of children whose legs dangled over
the wall as they kept up an incessant commentary in French

and Swahili. Nerves were beginning to reach the breaking
point, even among the team. The frustration of not being able
to communicate with the children aggravated the situation. It
was almost sundown, however, and we hoped they would soon
leave the area in peace.

In the meantime, a key was found to the team locker rooms
under the stadium. Hopes soon fell as we found no electric
lights — the bulbs had been stolen out of the sockets — and a
sickly stale smell permeating the locker rooms. The water had
been turned off, and the toilets and urinals had not been
flushed for weeks. They were filthy but not as bad as those
outside. The showers had been used as a toilet, and a swarm of
mosquitoes descended as soon as the door was opened. The
locker rooms had become a huge incubator for millions of
mosquitoes. Two of the showers were usable, but needed to be
scrubbed of dried, soapy dirt, dead insects, a squashed frog,
and other unidentifiable grime.

I commandeered two local men who worked in the stadium
and used sign language to get them to bring buckets and a
hose. Scrubbing brushes, soap, and disinfectant were available
in the trucks. The rest of the team was busy unloading, and I
found that I was now the self-appointed health officer in charge
of toilets and showers. It was the dirtiest job I had ever
undertaken. I was kept going only by the thought of a warm
shower to clean off the grime of two days on the road. After
pouring ammonia everywhere and almost suffocating myself
with insect spray, I found there was no hot water! Cold-water
showers were the best that could be had. The floors and walls
were now clean, however, and it was a breath of Heaven to
smell the freshness of soap and water on my skin again. I was
beginning to get a perception of crusade life in Africa!

After a good dinner came another shock — guard duty again.
No hero, this time I volunteered for the first stint, from 9 p.m.
to 11 p.m. Also, my complaints about sleeping conditions
brought an offer from Gerry Davies to share the cab with him.
Home, for the next seven days, was to be the cab of that truck.
I finished my guard duty sleep-walking and was asleep as soon

as my head hit the pillow.

The next morning, the crew decided it was impossible to
leave the CFAN camp in the present location because of the
security risk posed by the children, especially when the camp
was unoccupied during services. The best and most secure spot
would be inside the main stadium at the back of the goal posts.
The entire arena was ringed by a high barbed- wire fence.
Tentmaster Korbus De Lange was concerned that Reinhard
would be unhappy about finding the camp in the middle of the
stadium, but hoped he would understand once the advantages
were explained.

So the trucks, trailers, and other vehicles were moved. The
next major task was to get the lighting, sound system, and
platform rigged. The first meeting was scheduled for 3 p.m. the
next afternoon. Local churches cooperating in the crusade
provided plenty of help with the work, but the language barrier
again proved a problem. It also was a searingly hot day with a
blustery wind that kicked up dust and dry grass all through the
day. Blue jeans were a pale shade of brown by evening, and
blond hair ended up a reddish-brown color.

The children returned just after breakfast, but the barbed-
wire fence kept them at bay, although quite a few dared to
climb over it. Possibly they were lured on by the crew's
washing, strung out on makeshift lines tied between the
kitchen vehicle and one of the travel trailers. Several local
Christian women came by each day to do the washing in big
iron tubs out in the open. The temptation of the shirts, jeans,
and shorts hanging on the line was just too much for some of
the children, who braved the barbed wire and the guard dogs
to attempt grabbing some item. The crew managed to protect
its clothing and nothing valuable was taken.

Toward lunchtime, there must have been at least five
thousand children on the stands, which remained the norm for
the rest of the crusade. They stared and called "meester,
meester" all day long. The noise of their shouting, cheering,
and taunting was almost like that of a crowd at a soccer game.
Later that day, when some of the youngsters added stone

throwing to their tricks, one of the team became so fed up that
he grabbed a child and turned him over his knee! That
youngster got the shock of his life when he found his bottom
well and truly tanned. Others among the CFAN group were
upset, however, and pointed out that the ministry was there to
show the love of God and preach the Gospel, not to correct the
children. After some open debate and prayer, the differences
were resolved and the incident buried.

To my delight, I found myself removed from guard duty. Now
that we were behind fences, we were able to let the dogs run
loose at night. However, I had to get used to sleeping in
perpetual daylight. Because of security, floodlights blazed
directly into the camp all night. Also, all night, a distant sound
vibrated in the air, a moaning sound that sometimes sounded
like singing. We did not mind this, however, after finding out
the sound came from a group of women maintaining a twenty-
four-hour prayer vigil in one of the rooms under the main
grandstand. Those women were the unseen pillars for the
crusade that was to begin.

When Reinhard and the ministry team arrived the next day,
they were taken from the airport to meet with the city
commissioner and other officials. Through an interpreter, the
commissioner pointed out that Reinhard was following in some
illustrious footsteps — Pope John Paul II had been a visitor to
the city only a week earlier. In fact, one of the local newspapers
had carried advertisements for the Pope and the CFAN crusade
on facing pages.

The Crusade Begins

The first day of a crusade is always a thrill. By 2 p.m., people
were beginning to arrive. An hour later, the huge covered stand
on the west side was filled. The crowd soon overflowed onto
the main playing field. Estimates put the numbers at seventy
thousand. This crowd, however, was excitable and noisy, and
Reinhard had great difficulty in "reaching" them. He preached
one of his shortest sermons on record, prayed a general prayer
for the sick, then asked for those touched by the Lord to come
forward. What followed was chaos. People stampeded toward
the platform. Among them were some who had been healed,
but others simply wanted to get to the platform for a personal
"blessing" from Reinhard — probably a carryover from the
Pope's visit. The situation became almost dangerous as the mob
began to crush up against the platform, including women and
small children.

The platform became a place of refuge with the sick, lame,
and healed trying to escape the surging, pressing crowd. The
team began to puli up children who were being crushed against
the tent poles. After a few testimonies, Reinhard decided to
dismiss the crowd. It had been impossible to control the altar
call and get people to counselors. The meeting broke up in
general disarray. Nevertheless, the Gospel had been preached,
and many miracles of salvation and healing had taken place.

That evening, Reinhard, his general manager, some team
members, and some local people met to see what could be done
to handle the crowds. This was the first time in CFAN history
that crowd control had completely failed. The local people said
we should have a row of policemen in front of the platform
assisted by ushers, who would help people with genuine
testimonies get to Reinhard on the podium. No CFAN member
was anxious to have uniformed policemen on duty, but it
seemed this was the only form of discipline to which the people
would respond. Police were very much in evidence throughout
the city. One could hardly travel a single block without
encountering them stopping cars and checking for personal tax
clearances, overloading, and licenses. Overloading, the most

common offense, apparently was taken care of by a few bank
notes passed swiftly and silently from hand to hand. Scant
attention was paid to the road worthiness of vehicles,
otherwise the transport system of the city would have ground
to a permanent halt.

Apparently it is a case of "when in Rome," for even the
Christians there operated according to local police customs.
Once during that week some of the crew suffered the
misfortune of being stopped by the police, who demanded to
see the driver's license. Explanations were difficult, and after
much handwaving, it became obvious the officer was going to
insist on seeing the license — which, unfortunately, was back at
the CFAN camp. Someone else's license was offered, but the
policeman became louder and more officious. Fortunately,
Pastor Monot arrived on the scene with a small attache case
under his arm in which he usually carried a bulky supply of
banknotes. A brief consultation, and we were waved on.
Monot's attache case had saved the day!

For the rest of the crusade, a platoon of policemen took up
positions each day in front of the platform. Crowd control then
became possible, although the follow-up program for new
converts had to be abandoned because of the huge numbers
who responded. Also, street numbers for homes in many parts
of the city did not exist, so there was no way to get addresses.

The second night, the crowd numbered only about fifty
thousand, but there were some outstanding testimonies of the
sovereign move of God. Reinhard was more relaxed as he
preached a bold message, tough on sin. The tent crew hoped
some of the thousands of children among the crowd would hear
the message! They continued to be unruly, sometimes throwing
sand or handfuls of grass, and constantly talking and laughing.

Rains were not due for another six weeks, and the playing
field was losing a lot of grass. The children's scuffling raised
clouds of dust, which created quite a problem for the sound
man. At the close of the service when the people began dancing
and praising the Lord, his booth, which was right in the middle
of the crowd, would practically disappear from sight as he

frantically tried to protect his equipment from the fine, red
dust.

No attempt was made on the second day to have a full-
fledged altar call. Those wanting to accept Jesus were asked to
raise their hands and repeat the sinner's prayer where they
stood. We hoped that Christians sitting nearby would make
contact to establish fellowship with the new converts. That was
an unsatisfactory method, but at this crusade, the new converts
had to be left to the Holy Spirit as Comforter and Guide.

Testimonies of healing could have gone on all night, however.
The impact of the crusade, even under difficult circumstances,
was reaching into every comer of the city. Zaire Television then
requested permission to do a direct broadcast from the
stadium. A direct radio broadcast also was planned. In
addition, the television producer, a Christian, wanted to have
Reinhard and other team members on a panel discussion one
night during the week. The Lord was opening every possible
door to get the Gospel spread abroad in Zaire.

An incident during the third service illustrates the necessity
of spiritual discernment when ministering in Africa. When
Reinhard asked those who knew they had been touched by
Jesus to come forward, a tall, sharp-featured woman neatly
dressed in a traditional long caftan came through the crowd.
Her arms were raised as if she was praising the Lord. The
crowd began to applaud, but Reinhard boldly spoke into the
microphone that she was under the control of an evil spirit.
Some of the team stopped her from getting to the platform, and
immediately she became convulsed and began screaming.
Ushers carried her away and prayed for her deliverance. The
woman could have thrown the entire meeting into confusion if
she had succeeded in getting to the microphone. In Africa, the
preacher has to depend on the Holy Spirit, and not his deacons
or elders, to filter out the troublemakers.

All the meetings had been scheduled during the afternoon
because the authorities did not want the meetings to run late
into the night. However the Saturday starting time was set
later because the city commissioner had declared a "clean-up

day." A curfew was set from 2 p.m. until 5 p.m. Anyone
traveling during that time had to get a special police permit,
otherwise his vehicle could be impounded, and he might find
himself spending the weekend in jail. During those hours,
residents were expected to clean the city pavements and
streets.

That morning, a special staff meeting was held to discuss the
impending move to Harare. The devotional time before the
meeting, became, in hindsight, of considerable significance.
General Manager Peter Vandenburg's theme that morning was
sacrifice and the price each must be prepared to pay to follow
Jesus. Normally a smiling and cheerful man, that day he was
uncharacteristically tearful, and his voice choked as he asked,
"Are we . . . am I . . . prepared to sacrifice my life?" It was a
somber moment, but only a brief one, because people's minds
usually dismiss thoughts of death with, "It won't happen to
me." Yet two men in that crowded kitchen where the staff met
were going to make the ultimate sacrifice in the cause of the
Gospel within a few days.

Saturday was another searing hot day, but by 1:30 p.m., at
least two hundred people were already sitting on the grass
near the front of the platform. Most of them were elderly or
sick. Some could not walk, others were blind or deaf. They
were a pathetic sight, and the meeting was not to begin until 5
p.m. They sat in the scorching heat all afternoon, not moving or
trying to find any shade. They had brought no food or water
with them. We were deeply touched and actually hurt for
people so desperate for good health that they were willing to
sit for hours on hard, dusty ground in blazing heat to reach out
to Jesus to make them whole. The crew carried them bottles of
fresh water during the afternoon.

In spite of the obvious attractions of the local nightclubs, the
stadium filled with a crowd of some fifty thousand once again
that night. Reinhard kept the message short in order to give
more time for testimonies, because it was obvious the number
of healings was far exceeding anything we had seen in Lusaka.
Faith was high. There was one note of discord, however, and

again that came from the children. Because the meeting
started later than usual, they had flooded the playing field and
started several little soccer games among themselves. Most of
the time, they did not even have a proper ball to kick around,
only one made from old rags tightly bound together with string
and twine. When the meeting began, repeated requests were
made for them to stop playing, but to no avail. Neither the
adults present nor the police did anything to control the
children, who continued playing even after the sun went down
because the floodlights were on.

So during the sermon, some four hundred children shouted,
screamed, and dashed around the far side of the field, kicking
up dust, and enjoying their game. I walked to the far side of the
field, hoping to persuade the youngsters to show some respect
while the message was preached, but they began the good-
natured chant of "meester, meester," so I stopped. One little
boy began to smooth the skin on my hand and forearm. A
nearby adult understood some English and explained that the
little boy "just wants to feel a white skin." Only then did it
become obvious that we were such an oddity to the children
because many of us were white. We discovered that of the
seven hundred and fifty thousand people in Lubumbashi, only
about three thousand are whites. The children were fascinated
at watching the "rare birds." Some of them had never seen a
white person before.

The closing meeting was a joyful occasion with dozens again
charging up to the microphone to tell the crowd of about sixty
thousand what Jesus had done for them. An elderly women
arrived almost doubled over and hobbling on a stick, which she
threw away before the cheering crowd and walked upright on
the platform. Her joy overcame her when Reinhard took her
hand, and the pair began dancing before the Lord.

In spite of the hassles, it was a week of vivid memories of
great testimonies of the power of God. Many children were
among those healed. Just one experience such as the twelve-
year-old boy healed of a crippling hip condition made the long,
hard journey seem more than worthwhile. He had not been

able to run, jump, play sports, or even walk upright, yet as his
mother told of his condition, he did a series of leaps into the air
to show what Jesus had done for him. The joy of the mother and
son was contagious. The meeting was televised "live" and for
weeks exciting reports were heard of people watching by
television who had been healed when Reinhard prayed for the
sick. Many TV sets were on in the local hospitals throughout
the province and some people were healed as they lay in
hospital beds.

A crusade obviously takes a lot of hard labor on the part of
the crew as well as the ministry team, to say nothing of the
advertising and administrative work that goes on, plus the
follow-up done by local churches and volunteers. In fact,
working in a crusade is an ideal way for Christians to learn
unity and to develop patience and love for one another. Not all
crusades are as hard to run as this one, and hopefully, none of
them in the future will be followed by the kind of tragedy that
followed the one at Zaire.

Chapter 13: TEARS OF JOY, TEARS OF SORROW

The camp siren sounded at 5 a.m. on Tuesday; a beautiful
clear day. The air was crisp and dean as the crew washed in
cold water and made ready to start the long haul back to
Johannesburg and home. The day before had been spent taking
things apart and packing the vehicles for the journey. Everyone
was hard at work before breakfast stowing away the last few
items and checking that the trailers were all coupled to the
tractor cabs and ready to roll.

Before starting, the team gathered on the field just behind
the goalposts, sang a chorus, then joined hands and prayed for
a safe journey. Often there is a certain perfunctoriness attached
to prayers for a safe journey. Somehow, many times the
necessity for such a prayer seems abstract rather than real. I
had the urge to add a prayer based on Psalm 91 to those
already offered, feeling the prayers had not been powerful
enough. Then the thought occurred that I was being vain, and
before I could decide to go ahead and pray, the meeting broke
up. As events unfolded later that day, I wondered in anguish
whether obeying that little urgency to pray extra would have
had any influence on circumstances. Since then, I have realized
I will only know for sure when I see Jesus, so it would be foolish
to get into condemnation. I doubt if I will ever pass up another
such "urge," however.

After saying farewell to Pastor Monot and his wife, Sheila,
and other local Christians, the convoy pulled out of the Mobutu
Stadium headed back for Zambia. Grounds workers already
were busy watering and trying to repair the surface of the field
which had been badly damaged by the thousands of people
attending the crusade. They would be hard put to get the field
in shape by Sunday's international soccer game.

Despite the deterioration of some sections of the road where
tar had been broken up completely and swept away, and in
spite of being stopped at the usual police checks, we reached
the border by 10 am. — then spent the next three hours
patiently and meticulously going through all the necessary

papers with the customs officials. The five tractor- trailers were
supposed to set off in a pre-arranged order with the slowest
one in the lead, but because of frustration at the border delay,
each driver pulled out just as soon as he was allowed to leave.
Gerhard Ganske's rig stayed in the lead, followed by
Englishman Kim Fullam, Horst Kosannke with Milton
Kasselman as his co-driver, Gerry Davies, and Friedhelm
Wentland driving the last truck, followed by the ten-passenger
minibus. I rode with Davies.

After another brief stop at a police check, the convoy really
got rolling. The plan was to drive straight through and make
Lusaka by midnight. I was standing outside the customs
building when the first truck pulled away, and I ran across
towards mine, passing in front of Kosannke as he swung the
wheel around. Kasselman smilingly waved at me as I passed his
side of the truck. It was the last time I saw either of them alive.

The road through Zambia was narrow but fully tarred. On
each side of the road, tall grass waved back and forth from the
wind caused by the slipstream of the trucks. Stretching out
ahead of us were some huge slime dams from the nearby
Konkola copper mine. During the rainy season, a lot of these
tailings run off into the brush, then during the prolonged dry
months, the debris breaks up into a fine, white, powdery dust.
Sitting high up in the cab of the powerful vehicle, I felt
absolutely secure as smaller cars and trucks passed us by.
Davies and I, who had pulled out fourth in line instead of first
as planned (because our rig was the slowest), were chatting
away when suddenly we saw a heavy tractor-trailer
approaching at high speed. Davies moved as far over to the
side of the road as he could, then another rig passed us
traveling as fast as the first. There was a terrific explosion right
next to my ear, and we flinched then looked around in
bewilderment. Finally, we realized the outside mirrors of the
two vehicles must have touched.

I adjusted the mirror which, amazingly, was unbroken. Then I
looked up to see still a third truck coming at us. Later, we
found out that we had met a convoy of trucks carrying fuel

from South Africa to Zaire. At that point. Psalm 91 was working
overtime in my mind, and my knees were distinctly weak. The
third oncoming driver, however, apparently had encountered
the rest of our convoy and was aware of how narrow the road
was. He was traveling with one wheel off the tar, leaving a
good safety margin in the center of the road.

Unfortunately, his safety precaution caused an even greater
hazard. The multiple wheels of the rig were billowing up dense
clouds of fine, white dust, which a light breeze was blowing
into the middle of the road. Davies had slowed down even more
because of the passing trucks, so the vehicles ahead of us were
no longer in sight. Visibility was greatly reduced because of the
cloud of dust. The third oncoming truck passed safely, then we
plunged into the dust trailing behind it.

Davies slowed down even more saying, "Man, this is
dangerous. I must slow down."

He began to gear down and ease on the brakes. We were
only in the dense cloud for a few seconds, but burst out into the
bright sunlight to see a huge, red, cylindrical fuel tank lying
just off the center of the road and about fifty yards ahead. To
the right of it was a dark mass of metal. On the left and a few
yards past was one of the CFAN trailers half off the road tilted
at a steep angle.

Braking hard, Davies stopped. I yelled to him to switch on
the emergency lights, half expecting to see our fifth truck
coming out of the dust cloud and plowing into us. Then we ran
to see what we could do to help. At first, we thought the drivers
of the CFAN rig to the left had just pulled off to give assistance.
As we ran towards the red fuel tank, diesel fuel was spilling out
onto the road. The tank had been punctured on top also, and a
fine jet of fuel was spurting skywards. Smoke and flames could
be seen farther up the road, and small flames were licking
around the base of the tank.

I turned to look at the dark, metallic mass that had baffled
me and realized that it was a trailer and part of a truck. I gazed
again at the red fuel tank, then suddenly noticed, lying in a
pool of diesel fuel, the crumpled body of a black woman.

Flames were beginning to run toward her. I had jumped out of
the truck without shoes and now realized I had better get them
on before trying to run into any flames. As I ran back down the
road I saw Friedhelm Wentland, driver of our last rig, parked a
safe distance behind us along with our people who had been in
the minibus.

I yelled at Wentland to pick up the woman, and he and
someone else placed her a safe distance away on the side of the
road. We found later that she was a hitchhiker picked up by the
driver of the fuel truck. By the time I had my shoes on, the rest
of the men had dragged out all available fire extinguishers. One
was shoved into my arms, and we all ran to the spot where the
containers were being threatened by the spreading fire. Flames
and great plumes of smoke were everywhere. As we battled
through the tall, dry grass to get a side view of the CFAN
trailer sitting there, the full horror of what had happened hit
me.

The CFAN rig off to the left was completely engulfed by now
in roaring flames that leaped high into the air, and neither
driver was anywhere to be seen. There was no sign of life
except for those of us just arriving. One of the crew tried to get
closer to the fiery wreck with one of the extinguishers, an act
of sheer desperation because the puny little extinguisher would
have made no impression whatsoever. Even as he crawled
forward, there was an explosion, possibly one of the tires.
Three of the team stood back under the shadow of a giant
anthill and began to wail and cry for their brothers in Christ.

For a moment or two, I stood paralyzed. What does a
Christian do in a disaster situation like this? I began to pray in
tongues because my mind certainly did not have the answer.
Standing in the tall grass, I suddenly became aware of another
danger. Flames were now spreading from the wreck into the
dry grass, and diesel fuel was running down the road and into a
gully alongside. Our truck and the one behind were in danger

— as well as the minibus and all of us standing out on the road

— of being trapped by a wall of flames on each side.

I rushed down from my vantage point and shouted to my

colleagues to help divert the river of diesel fuel to the bush. As
we attempted to divert the fuel so as to be free of fire on at
least one side of the road, I glimpsed out of the corner of my
eye the starkness of the tragedy in human terms. Rudi, the son
of Horst Kosannke, the driver of the rig on fire, rushed past me
screaming, "Where is my father? Where is my father?" I saw
him a few moments later, wild-eyed and ripping his shirt in
anguish. Still later, I found him sitting in the cab of one of our
trucks, red-eyed and sobbing but also full of rage. I put an arm
around him and prayed, although no human words are ever
adequate in such a situation.

Outside, the flames seared the sky and sinister clouds of
black smoke lifted high into the blue heavens, visible for many
miles. From nowhere, hundreds of people, mainly children, had
now appeared to chatter and watch the drama. By now, the rest
of the convoy ahead of us had stopped, and some of them had
returned. Shock and dismay were on all our faces. Grown men
cried unashamedly. I remember walking along the side of the
road with my arm around one of them. Although deeply grieved
myself, the Word of the Lord came strongly into my heart, and
it was simply this: To be absent from the body is to be present
with the Lord. (2 Cor. 5:8.) I tried to comfort my colleagues and
lift their spirits, but it was hard. All around us now was the
smell of death.

That was the longest and most trying day of my life. The
accident happened about 1:30 p.m., and it was ninety minutes
before a fire truck from the mine arrived to douse the flames.
Then came the gruesome task of trying to remove the bodies
and piece together how the accident had occurred. There was
an unpleasant scene when a member of the local Red Cross
arrived, smelling heavily of alcohol, and began drunkenly to
accuse us of smuggling ammunition. Several men on the CFAN
team have quick tempers and, before they came to Christ, were
quite capable of handling themselves well in a fight. It was an
amazing act of grace that restrained them from flattening that
official.

Also there were some over-officious actions by the police.

who threatened me because I was taking photographs, mostly
for insurance claim purposes. Then there were spectators
pressing in on us, and one of our team members seemed to be
only concerned with getting on to Lusaka. All in all, nerves
became ragged and edgy from grief, frustration, and
aggravation. In such tight comers, one finds out just how much
the Word of God controls one's life!

Comfort in the Middle of Distress

In the middle of all the distress, the Lord provided comfort,
strength, and practical help. Among the spectators was a group
of Christian women who came to offer condolences and to pray.
Then mine management officials arrived to offer assistance,
and a local farmer and his sons brought boxes of soft drinks
and offered the CFAN convoy refuge on their nearby farm that
night.

After the wreckage was cleared from the road, which was
closed all afternoon and held up all traffic between Zambia and
Zaire, we went to the farmhouse on the banks of the Kafue
River. Also among the group was Danie Kasselman, the younger
brother of the other victim, Milton Kasselman. As we sat
around a long table in the large courtyard of the farmhouse,
with the Trytsman family preparing a huge chicken barbecue,
we sang songs of praise and began to pray for the wives and
families of Horst and Milton. The impact of the tragedy only
then had really hit the team. The two victims were now with
the Lord, but their wives and children were left behind to
suffer loss and make the real sacrifices.

During the afternoon, De Lange had notified Reinhard of the
tragedy, and he began trying to charter a plane to join the team
as soon as possible. Nobody on earth will ever quite know what
happened that afternoon. De Lange, out in front of the convoy,
was the first to encounter the oncoming trucks. When he saw
how fast they were traveling, he radioed back to some of the
drivers who were equipped with walkie-talkies. One of the men
he spoke to was Milton, warning him to beware of the fast-
approaching northbound convoy. He called again a minute later
and got no response, but thought maybe a small hill was
hindering the reception. Only when he looked back in the rear
view mirror and saw the first puffs of smoke did he realize
something was wrong.

An inquest resulted in the cause of the accident being listed
as "unknown," and no one was held responsible. Most of us,
however, are sure that the cloud of white, powdery dust was
the key cause. Based on what we saw and what was found out

in subsequent insurance investigations, apparently Horst
entered the cloud of dust and kept his rig on the extreme edge
of the road. There was a slight embankment, however, and the
truck apparently began to slide causing the rig to slightly jack¬
knife, which he probably tried to correct.

About the same time, a fourth oncoming truck entered the
same dust cloud. That driver would not have had to wander
over the center very much to have collided head-on with Horst,
who was battling to control his own rig. That seems to be the
best possible explanation. When the two rigs collided, the fuel
tanks ruptured, and an electrical fire started immediately and
soon became an inferno.

There is an unsolved mystery surrounding Milton
Kasselmaris death, however. His charred body was found
stretched out next to the crumpled cab of Horst's rig with the
only physical injury a broken wrist. A witness who arrived
seconds after the impact says he saw him run around the rig
and try to help the other man. Milton's widow, Jane, has a
theory that her late husband fainted when he looked into the
cab and saw the extent of Horst's injuries. She said he could
not stand the sight of blood and would faint when one of the
children suffered a small cut. So it would appear that he
amazingly survived the impact, only to either be knocked out
by the explosion or simply faint and then be burned to death.

I lay awake that night thinking that it is relatively easy to die
for Jesus, to give your life in the cause of His Gospel, but had I
ever really asked my wife and children if they were prepared
for me to make that sacrifice? There is a sense of adventure for
the men on the great Gospel crusades in Africa, but if sudden
death comes as it had that afternoon, they would be
transported into the presence of Jesus leaving a legacy of tears
and anguish for their loved ones. Yet no other cause, no matter
how noble it may sound, can compare with that of the Gospel.
There is no greater honor than to live and die for Jesus.

As Chris Alberts drove Rudi Kosannke and myself to Lusaka
Airport in the Toyota Corolla the next day, I could not help but
notice that I involuntarily stiffened each time I saw a big truck

hammering towards us. Chris also noticed a tendency in
himself to ease off on the gas whenever we met a truck. Finally
we realized we must not cower under any devilish deception of
fear. I must confess, however, that each time I see a truck
coming my way, I have an instant recall of September 3, 1985. I
am not fearful when driving, but perhaps that scene is lodged
in my memory to remind me of how frail we are — like the
grass of the field, blooming one day and withered and blown
away the next. (1 Pet. 1:24.)

Reinhard met up with the convoy just outside the town of
Kitwe, and they all hugged and shed a few tears on the side of
the road as they prayed and comforted one another. Speaking
at the funeral a few days later, Reinhard recalled his thoughts
as he sat in the back of the plane carrying the bodies of the two
men back to Witfield:

"It was like carrying the bones of Joseph back to the
Promised Land, not that there was anything special in the
bones, but there was a promise with them. God would fulfill His
Word. Yes, even over my own death and grave, God would fulfill
His Word for Africa to be saved."

Also at the funeral, Reinhard recalled a warning given by the
Holy Spirit some two years earlier:

"The Holy Spirit spoke repeatedly that a time would come
when some of us would lay down our lives for the sake of the
Gospel. The Holy Spirit spoke of martyrdom. The path we are
treading is red with the blood of martyrs who have gone on
before us. But no matter what the price or cost, this vision will
find fulfillment. Even if we were to back out, God would find
someone else. But we will go this way until the end, until Jesus
comes. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church. The
more Satan kills the saints, the more God's people prosper, the
more the Kingdom of God grows."

He made a direct challenge to all of the CFAN team at the
funeral, "We are not backing out from this divine call. If anyone
says he cannot pay the price or the road is too rough, I will ask
him to rather look for a more comfortable ministry. The road
ahead is tough and rough, but at the same time, glorious. I for

one want to walk it to the end."

With such a challenge and the two coffins of our brothers in
Christ before us with the South African and West German flags
draped at the back of the podium, there was not one member of
the CFAN ministry who could not say "Amen," to the call to
persevere.

The Zambia and Zaire crusades had been glorious events,
but at what a price. Being involved in frontline crusade
evangelism is not all "hallelujahs." The tears of joy can become
tears of sorrow.

Chapter 14: A CALL FROM THE EAST

A major departure from the crusade calendar in 1985 came
when CFAN received a call from the Far East. They were
invited to hold a full crusade in Singapore in December.
Reinhard had visited Singapore on brief preaching
engagements, and now the local Christians wanted him to
return and stage a proper crusade. Although he has traveled
the world and spoken on every continent, his big city crusades
have been held only in Africa. Before the visit to the East,
however, another major crusade was held in Africa, two visits
were made to Great Britain, and a rally was held in Australia.

Ever since the Nigerian crusade, Reinhard had been eager to
return to the populous West Coast where he sensed that God's
harvest was ready to be reaped. So in October 1985, CFAN
went to Accra, the capital of Ghana. Planning for the crusade
had been initiated by CFAN organizer Ekkehard Homburg,
assisted by local missionaries Frans and Esther Kleefeld, who
later became CFAN representatives in West Africa. Some
twenty-five churches and ministries joined in the Ghana
Pentecostal Council which invited CFAN to hold the crusade.

Two days before leaving for Accra, Reinhard received a
message that permission to use the stadium in the center of the
city had been withdrawn. This is typical in Africa where
decisions often are changed overnight by officials who take no
thought of the planning and preparation that may have gone
into an event.

As it was, thousands of posters and handbills had been handed
out for the crusade, and Christians were eager that it proceed.
The alternate location was an interesting one — the local race
course.

When preparing a press release after the crusade, the CFAN
publicist could not resist the following introduction: "In
Revelation 19, we have the picture of the triumphant Lord
Jesus Christ riding the white horse, and in Accra, the Savior
was again the winner when CFAN held a giant crusade on the
local race course!"

The change in location resulted in a slow start with only
twenty thousand people attending the first evening meeting,
but the power of God was evident. As the news spread through
the city attendance doubled each evening. On the final night,
there was a crowd estimated at one hundred and twenty
thousand people.

At the first service, five women testified of being healed of
breast cancer; and, on the second night, a blind four-year-old
received his sight. A little girl who had been unable to walk for
seven years brought roars of applause when she began to jump
up and down on the platform. The final service was held on
Saturday morning at 8 a.m. because a horse race was
scheduled for the afternoon. Despite the early hour and the
blazing sun, crowds of people attended. Reinhard's estimate of
those saved during the five days was seventy thousand.

He made a commitment then and there to hold other
crusades in Ghana, which he has done. One was held in early
1986 at Kumasi, the second largest city, and in March 1986 at
two smaller coastal towns. At the Kumasi crusade, a dozen
blind people received their sight at one service. Day after day,
the crusade was big news in Kumasi. Hardly a single person
among the eight hundred thousand inhabitants was not aware
that Jesus was visiting their city. Among those who took a keen
interest was the king of the Ashantis, who was visited by
Reinhard and the CFAN team.

The giant stadium at Kumasi, which seats eighty thousand
people, had never been used for a Christian event before, and it
overflowed with an estimated one hundred and twenty
thousand people attending each service. Pastor Opuni of the
Assemblies of God in Kumasi said, "A completely new and
positive situation has arisen here. The spiritual climate has
changed. We thank Jesus for this breakthrough."

The third major crusade in Ghana was held on a large open
sports field half way between the towns of Sekondi and
Takoradi. During the five days, crowds varied between sixty
thousand and eighty thousand. Local ministers were amazed at
the turnout. This was the first time a large-scale crusade had

been held in the western region of Ghana. According to local
pastor Eogre Appekey, general secretary of the Assemblies of
God and chairman of the crusade committee, the previous
largest crowd for a Christian event had been less than five
thousand people.

Seven blind people received their sight. Among the cripples
who walked that night was a twenty-year- old man who had
been carried into the meeting. He jumped up and ran to the
platform to tell what had happened. He had no shoes because
he had never had to wear them! So Reinhard gave him the
money to buy a new pair for his newly healed feet.

Reinhard wrote in the German edition of Missions-
Reportage:

"The peak of the crusade was without doubt the moment
when Jesus baptized thousands of new converts with the Holy
Ghost and Fire. It was like Pentecost in the Book of Acts. The
glory of the Lord came down like liquid fire. Many thousands
received the gift of praising the Lord in a new language. The
western region of Ghana will never be the same because these
people, ignited by the Holy Spirit, will carry the fire
everywhere. In Jesus' name, this will continue in country after
country. We can rest one day in Heaven — but now is harvest
time."

Easter in London

The trip to the United Kingdom was for the Easter Day
service at the Royal Albert Hall, This famous London landmark
was almost filled to capacity According to locals, it was one of
the largest religious gatherings since pre-World War II days.
One elderly woman, who had been attending the Easter
services there for the past fifty years, exclaimed, "It is the
greatest meeting I have ever been to ... I'll never be the same
again."

As usual, Reinhard's anointed preaching generated a high
level of faith and an urgency to get involved with promoting the
Gospel. This was confirmed by a spokesman for Elim Bible
College who said that the number of applicants to attend the
college skyrocketed following his message, "Faith Frightens
Satan."

In November 1985, Reinhard returned to England lighting
further flames of revival. From the first meeting held in the
Watford Town Hall, it was clear that accommodating the crowd
was going to be the major problem. At the first meeting, some
two hundred and fifty "home folks" volunteered to leave so that
visitors could hear the preaching.

The next two meetings were held in Westminster Chapel,
London, and that grand old building was filled to capacity. With
uninhibited rejoicing, the crowd witnessed a young man, who
had only walked on crutches for thirty years, take his first
faltering steps holding onto the pews. Finally, he ran down the
aisles and leaped onto the platform holding his crutches in the
air!

A tightly packed schedule on this trip included meetings at
the Central Hall, Birmingham; the Town Hall in Leeds; the
large new Halton Pentecostal Church in Widnes, which seats
fifteen hundred people; and the recently completed Leisure
Centre in Newport, south Wales. Such was the response that at
some meetings as many as five hundred people had to be
turned away because of fire and safety rules governing crowd
capacities. At Leeds, a man began pushing his own wheelchair
up and down the aisles and stood worshiping the Lord for the

remainder of the service.

Truly; the winds of the Holy Spirit are sweeping through
Britain. Reports similar to this have been received from other
evangelists who recently have been to the United Kingdom.

"Bonnke Shakes Perth"

In December 1985, Reinhard stopped over in Perth,
Australia, accompanied by Pastor Ray McCauley of Rhema
Ministries South Africa, for a two-day rally before continuing
on to Singapore. The headlines of the daily newspaper. The
West Australian, summed up the visit: "Bonnke Shakes Perth."

A total of twenty-three churches and local fellowships had
combined to rent the Entertainment Centre where up to seven
thousand attended each night with hundreds making first-time
decisions for the Lord.

"Even though the crusade was so short, it was the best we
have ever had in Perth," said local organiser. Pastor Brian
Baker. "It is the first time that so many churches in this city
have cooperated. That is a miracle in itself," he added.

On the second evening of the rally, an outstanding miracle
not only shook up those people in the hall but made major
headlines the following day. While preaching, Reinhard
approached a woman sitting in a wheelchair and told her he
had a Word from the Holy Spirit that she was to be healed
during the service.

"Do you believe that?" asked Reinhard.

The woman's head slumped onto her chest. Her faith was too
weak to give a positive reply.

It was an extremely bold moment, but earlier in the day
Reinhard had been assured by the Holy Spirit that the Lord
was going to heal a woman in a green sweater. When his eyes
fell on the woman in the wheelchair, wearing a green top, he
knew she was the one.

A wave of faith flowed through him, leaving a holy audacity
that even surprised him. He took the woman by the hand and
began to pray for her. Then with a hushed audience looking on,
he told her to stand up in the name of Jesus. In that moment, it
happened. The power of God shot into her limbs. She jumped
out of the wheelchair totally healed. It was almost impossible to
quieten the crowd who began rejoicing and praising God for
this miracle. The woman had been told by doctors that she
might never walk again, but God had done in one glorious

moment what was impossible for man.

A Perth television crew was at the meeting and filmed this
dramatic healing as it occurred. The incident was shown
nationwide the following day. There also was a film clip
showing Reinhard laughing and smiling as he was wheeled
across the stage in the woman's wheelchair.

Visited the next day by local newspaper reporters, the healed
woman opened the front door herself. "Her wheelchair stood
folded in the hall," the papers reported. Pastor Baker followed
up on this healing and later sent CFAN a letter with a doctor's
report that indicated that initially Mrs. Shirley McKelt had
broken the neck of the femur bone and was unable to walk. She
had an operation two weeks prior to the meeting but had still
been unable to walk. After the meeting, an X-ray showed new
bone growth which normally should have taken at least ten
weeks, the doctors said. Stiffness in muscles and nerves also
had disappeared, and the doctors gave the thirty-four-year-old
woman an "excellent report."

A Visit to Singapore

At first, Reinhard had been reluctant to become involved in a
major crusade outside of Africa, but later he agreed. The
magnificent, modem stadium in Singapore was booked for the
11th through the 15th of December. The Church there
immediately shifted into high gear, and with typical Oriental
precision and diligence planned every detail. Chris Lodewyk
went over to assist. Because this was to be a full-blown CFAN
operation, it was decided that Suzette Hattingh also should go
on ahead and prepare the spiritual ground with her
intercessory prayer groups.

A total of seven churches cooperated, with the large and
influential Charismatic Anglican church headed by Bishop Dr.
Moses Tai playing a major role in organizing and preparing for
the crusade. Full-page newspaper advertisements were placed,
and posters set up in most public places and on buses. Special
t-shirts were made up for the event.

Singapore is a very unusual nation. Despite its lack of size
and absence of natural resources — except the harbor and
strategic location in east Asia — it is exceptionally prosperous.
It is a small and crowded country of two and a half million
people, consisting mainly of idol-worshipers, Moslems, and
Christians. Those who worship idols make up by far the greater
percentage and even the number of Moslems is about double
that of Christians.

Despite being in the minority, Christians hold many high
positions in business, commerce, and government circles. In
fact, the Christians in Singapore are among the most affluent in
the world. They have, thankfully, recognized that this temporal
blessing is for the promotion of the Gospel. Singapore is not
only a nation and city of many religions, but also of cultures
and languages, making its success as a unitary state even more
remarkable.

The Singapore crusade was a test for Reinhard. He explains,
"From the very first night, I realized that there were many
heathens in the stadium — people who had absolutely no
Biblical knowledge. I was gripped by a deep urge to teach

these dear people to know Jesus and His redemptive work on
the cross. And God's grace was with us. The Holy Spirit
revealed Jesus, and thousands of precious souls acknowledged
Him as the Son of the Living God."

On the night Reinhard preached on the baptism of the Holy
Spirit, thousands experienced the reality of this wonderful
Bible promise. "Never before have we heard an entire stadium
full of people singing in tongues," was the amazed comment of
one Chinese organizer. An odd thing happened during that
service. As Reinhard preached on the Holy Spirit, a large white
bird suddenly flew into the middle of the stadium and hovered
all the while within the arcs of the powerful floodlights. "It is a
sign from God! The Holy Spirit is here," people whispered to
each other in the stands. As cripples jumped out of wheelchairs
and cancers disappeared, the comment was heard over and
over, "This is a breakthrough for Singapore."

In addition to the nightly crusades, Reinhard was asked to
speak to six hundred lecturers at the national university. The
hall was overflowing with professors and instructors,
representing many religions. Reinhard, never ashamed to
present the truth and claims of Jesus boldly and clearly,
preached from Mark 1 5 on the heathen centurion who stood at
the foot of the cross and had a revelation that Jesus is the Son
of the Living God. Afterwards, he invited them to accept Jesus,
and a number of the learned men responded to the altar call.

During the five-day crusade, crowds of up to fifty thousand
attended each service, and at least seven thousand decisions
were made for Christ. The impact among the heathen
community was great, and the Church in Singapore
immediately asked Reinhard and the team to return for an even
larger crusade in 1987. He also received invitations to hold
crusades in Malaysia and the Philippine Islands, extending his
vision not only to all of Africa but to answer a call from the East

to come over . . . and help US (Acts 16:9) as well.

The United Charismatic Convention

Shortly after the Singapore meeting, Reinhard returned
"Down Under" with his destination this time being the South
Australian capital of Adelaide. There he shared the platform
with Dr. Paul Yonggi Cho of South Korea, among others. The
event was the annual United Charismatic Convention,
organized by Barry Chant, who had invited Reinhard to attend
when Chant first met him at the Big Tent dedication in
February 1984.

As part of the convention and as an outreach to Adelaide,
permission was obtained to hold an open- air meeting in
Victoria Square — but it was limited to one hour. Reinhard was
given the honor of preaching, and many came forward to
accept Jesus. Overlooking Victoria Square is the Hilton Hotel
where a Canadian businessman was staying. He heard the
Gospel from his bedroom window and gave his life to Jesus as
well. The man came and told Reinhard about his decision and
joined the delegates at the conference for the rest of the week
— another example of the power of the Gospel to reach into the
heart of man, whether in a mass meeting or alone in a hotel
bedroom in a foreign city.

Chapter 15: RACISM CHALLENGED

The year 1985 must rank as the most traumatic of all the
years of the ministry for Reinhard — and for the team. The Big
Tent had been lost the year before, but that turned out to be
mostly a financial blow and nothing to the upheaval that
occurred in 1985. It seemed that in the midst of the greatest
victories of the Bonnke ministry everything that could be
shaken was shaken.

First, there was the move into genuine mass evangelism and
the crusades in Ibadan and Singapore; secondly, there was the
tragic death of two of the crew following the Zambia and Zaire
crusades; and, last of all, there came the momentous
unexpected necessity to uproot the organization from South
Africa. This latter situation caused the most serious upheaval of
all for the ministry. Many of the CFAN team had to quit, and the
move even caused some confusion for Christians in South
Africa. Also, an international headquarters had to be found,
property had to be bought and sold. All of these things
amounted to an earthquake in many people's lives.

None of these events or decisions, however, were apparent
when CFAN department heads met January 11, 1985, for a
routine meeting. Some attention was given to finances and the
need to budget wisely. Reinhard shared some of his plans for
the future and warned of difficulties that would be encountered
because of those plans of expanding the vision further into
Africa: lower living standards, dangers of disease, and
generally harsher conditions for the crusade team on the road.
He expressed a strong desire for each man to improve in his
area of expertise and to strive for greater efficiency.

Reinhard talked about his intention to build up the CFAN
Village as a multiracial community and strongly advised that
women and children remain at home while the men went north
on crusades. There was even talk of securing a large plane
which could ferry the men to and from the crusades, giving
them adequate time off to be at home with their families.
Members of the ministry left the meeting feeling their futures

were reasonably secure. Little did they know what would
transpire before they next met in eight weeks time. Christians
need to place their security only in God. Things on earth are
always changing. Only He does not change.

In addition to a series of international speaking
engagements, Reinhard and Peter Vandenburg decided to spy
out the land farther north in Africa. Shortly after that staff
meeting, they toured six countries on the West Coast: Togo, the
Ivory Coast, Nigeria, Cameroons, Ghana, and Upper Volta.
They gained valuable information and established some vital
new contacts, such as that with Archbishop Idahosa. The
Ibadan crusade came out of this tour.

Perhaps the most important thing they found out, however —
and the one which had the greatest impact on the ministry —
was the discovery that CFAN's connections with South Africa
were potentially a far greater hindrance than they had ever
considered.

Reinhard, during his travels overseas and into Africa, had
often faced a barrage of hostile questions from the media
concerning South Africa. His answer always was that he
regards himself as a preacher and part of the solution.
Unfortunately, some of the antagonism and naked hatred
expressed towards anything remotely connected with South
Africa was forceably brought home to Reinhard and Peter
during their West Africa reconnaissance.

In Lagos, for example, they were told that people threw back
Gospel tracts if they saw the tracts had been printed in
Pretoria. It also became apparent that there was no way the
South African members of the team would be allowed to travel
in Africa with their present passports. On his return to Witfield,
Reinhard had to bluntly tell the staff that he had come to a
realistic conclusion that, if they were to win Africa for Jesus,
they could not stay in South Africa.

He announced immediate steps to downgrade the South
African office and to register one in Harare, Zimbabwe. He
warned the South African staff members that they would have
to obtain other passports if they wanted to remain with CFAN.

Things began to move swiftly. Fortunately CFAN had
maintained an office in Harare since 1984. It was now already
the main center for the planning of the massive FIRE
conference to be held in the Sheraton Centre. Staff and
equipment had been flowing between Witfield and Harare for
some months, and a good circle of contacts had been
established in the Zimbabwean capital.

A major concern, however, remained the South African
members of the team. Reinhard reiterated time and again that
they would have to obtain some other passport and that this
would be the responsibility of the individuals concerned. At the
March 20 staff meeting, he asked everyone to be open and
honest with regard to their desire to move north. He added
that CFAN would do its best to help find alternative
employment for those who could not go, or did not want to go.

The number of key South African personnel at that time was
considerable. For them, it became a mountainous problem.
Initially, they did nothing. There were crusades to keep up
with, and the ministry had to continue to function. Also, it was
difficult to forecast when the move to Harare would be
finalized.

By the end of April, it was announced that CFAN planned to
buy a block of apartments in Harare, and by June this had been
accomplished. Then it became obvious the move was going to
come quicker than some people had expected. Some of the
South African staff then began to make inquiries about
immigrating to Zimbabwe in an attempt to legally get a new
citizenship and passport.

To do this, they found, meant living in Zimbabwe for at least
five years before qualifying for a passport. This, of course, was
not feasible because the crusade team would constantly be on
the move in Africa and because there was no guarantee that
CFAN would be based in Zimbabwe for five years.

Now came an agonizing decision. Unless there was a
miraculous change of heart, politically, about South Africa by
its neighbors which would make their passports acceptable, all
the South African staff members would have to leave the

organization.

Some stoically reached that decision and began earnestly to
seek the Lord and plan for the future. Some resigned during
the second half of the year. Others chose to remain with the
team for as long as possible, praying for a miracle or hoping
the crusades would be confined for a time to those nations
willing to accept South African passports.

Indeed, it was a trying time for everyone concerned. They
had not only their own futures, but that of their children
concerning schools and higher education, to consider.

The decision to downgrade the Witfield office and to
establish Harare as the Africa base (for an unspecified time
because it was apparent that the base eventually would have to
move northwards) also forced another decision: to establish an
international headquarters off the continent. Offices already
had been set up in West Germany, the United States, and Great
Britain. It was decided that international headquarters should
be in Europe because of the possibility of flying easily to most
of the capitals of Africa from Europe. For obvious reasons,
Reinhard voted for Germany, and so a search began for a
suitable base in West Germany.

Nine Glorious Days

In the meantime, the crusades and meetings continued from
South Africa to Australia. One poignant meeting — especially
under the circumstances of the decision to move — was the one
held from April 27 to May 5 at the Pilditch sports arena in
Pretoria, South Africa.

The city has heavy symbolic connotations. Militant
international organizations scathingly refer to the "Pretoria
racist regime." In a sense, the city is seen as the bastion of
Afrikanerdom (white Dutch-speaking natives) and the unjust
system of apartheid. Just as Johannesburg is the commercial
and financial pulse of South Africa, so Pretoria throbs out
political signals.

Most of the world's news media and politicians have focused
their attention in recent years on the creeping violence in
South Africa, on disinvestment and sanctions, and the merry-
go-round of proposed internal changes and reforms. What is
overlooked is that most South Africans, of all races, have a
deep desire for peace, harmony, and prosperity for the future.

Those words may sound hollow in view of the killings, arson,
unemployment, and economic hazards which threaten the
country. The plea of the nation is for solutions, but politicians,
academicians, industrialists, clerics, and the news media churn
out verbiage that is at best a desperate cry for help and, at
worst, only exacerbates the already raw situation.

Racism undoubtedly is the ugly scar on the heart of South
Africa, but at Pilditch sports arena, there was a demonstration
of what God's love can do and is doing in this beleaguered
nation. Much of the world's media ignore the good and
concentrate on the bad and ugly. For nine days in 1985, the
people of Pretoria — mainly Afrikaners — experienced
something beautiful.

Far nine days, blacks, whites, coloreds, and Indians filed into
the Pilditch sports arena. They sang together, prayed together,
wept together, and rejoiced together. For the thousands of
whites who came, it was not only a meeting with God but a
social education. Afrikaansspeaking citizens rubbed shoulders.

held hands, and united in an unprecedented way with their
black and brown brethren. They found that, under the skins of
these Christians, were people who loved and served God as
fervently as they did.

More than eighty thousand people attended the crusade with
about sixteen thousand at the final Sunday afternoon meeting.
Ministers were unanimous about the spirit of unity that
prevailed. The ugliness of racism disappeared for nine glorious
days.

Why? The answer is childishly simple: Jesus, the Man Who
walked the dusty roads of Palestine nearly two thousand years
ago is declared to be the Prince of Peace. His peace was
powerfully demonstrated at the "Jesus '85 Crusade" in Pretoria.
There on the grassy island of the sports field, the Gospel of
reconciliation was demonstrated. Masks fell, and those
Christians, black and white, who attended began to see that
actually there are only two "races" to God — sinners and saints,
or the saved and the unsaved. They began to see that they were
all sinners once, no better and no worse than one another,
whether they lived in a slum or a posh suburb. All of them
needed the love of God and His salvation.

The Christians recognized another truth: they were all born
of the same divine Spirit and forgiven as a result of the same
divine sacrifice — Jesus. They found there was more to agree
about than to disagree about. Nightly they came to sing,
worship, and to lift up holy hands to the Lord. Nightly, they
prayed together for a single purpose: to see the Kingdom of
God enlarged. Nightly, they rejoiced to see hundreds of sinners
turn to the Lord in repentance and find new life, hope, and
peace in Jesus.

One of the CFAN team was part of a small prayer group one
night which consisted of a black man, an Afrikaans-speaking
white man, and an English- speaking white man. He noted the
symbolism of the threesome and thanked God for it. He said,
"For only in Jesus is there true reconciliation and harmony."

But what did the Pretoria crusade demonstrate to South
Africa, sick with prejudice and weeping because of the human

damage caused by apartheid? Simply this: if South Africa is
truly a Christian nation, then it needs to turn Godward for its
solutions. The Christianity of the nation has consisted of a large
part of lip service; its past style of Christianity has been stained
with the bile of racism, and the time has now come for all white
leaders to hear and do the Word of God.

To reject the way of peace — God's way — offered by
practical Christianity will bring South Africa into perilous and
dark times. The answers for all of mankind were encapsulated
in that Pretoria crusade. It was a different crusade. It lacked
the spontaneity of Ibadan, the zest of Harare, but it was
characterized by waves of divine love that reached down into
the depths of every heart.

This great victory for love and unity was forged by long and
arduous planning by the Pretoria crusade committee, on which
men like Pastor Willie Crew labored with a large and
enthusiastic team of volunteers who worked for months to
ensure that the event would proceed smoothly.

Also, there was the spiritual preparation and warfare,
spearheaded as usual by Suzette Hattingh. Few of the city's
population knew anything about this part of the crusade. The
invisible battle was fought by a hardy hand of five hundred
intercessory prayer warriors, who raised their voices to Heaven
and released the power of God over the city,

Suzette relates, "When I arrived in Pretoria to prepare the
intercessory prayer squads, I immediately sensed a strong
spiritual resistance."

Realizing that they were in for a real battle, she soon got rid
of the slackness in the volunteers' prayer lives. "I knew they
had to be taught how to make war and that God was raising up
an army for Himself," she added.

From then on, it was all-out warfare in the spirit realm as
from three hundred to five hundred people of all races
gathered to listen to the Word and to intercede.

"It was the highest level of unity in spiritual warfare that I
have experienced in our crusades," she says, "Not only were we
interceding for the meetings but for the city as well. People

began to stand in authority and pray with a deep assurance
that their prayers were turning back the enemy The
intercessors knew they were engaged in real spiritual combat."

Suzette directs her intercessors as a general would his
troops. On the final Saturday night and Sunday afternoon of
the crusade, she changed strategies. Instead of remaining in a
hall at the back of the stadium, the intercessors moved in
among the crowd.

"We had people under the platform praying all the time, and
others ringed the front of the platform. We built up a 'wall' of
prayer. Still other groups were in the grandstand," she says.

The impact of her prayer ministry not only produces glorious
results during the CFAN crusades but has a profound effect on
the volunteers who join her army temporarily. They rarely
remain the same, but they return to their churches on fire and
thrilled to have gotten to grips with the reality of prayer. Many
pastors have been inspired by the often revolutionary-to-them
approach to prayer. In the beginning, some pastors regarded
the intercessory groups as "just another prayer meeting." But
this attitude soon changed once they became absorbed in the
teaching and practice of genuine intercession.

In addition to the love and joy that marked this crusade,
there were some heartwarming testimonies of healing, but the
greatest joy of all came from the fifty- three hundred new
converts who were closely followed up by the dozens of
churches that cooperated in a meeting that stands out in a year
of outstanding crusades.

A Strain on Resources

In November, Reinhard was in Frankfurt and, while there,
saw a property that looked good for a headquarters site. It had
good grounds, offices, and several apartments. It was near the
city and, of vital importance, close to the international airport.
The price also seemed good. The property was being sold by a
bank that had seized it after the owners had gone bankrupt.

He made an offer and took an option on the property. At a
meeting back in Witfield where he asked the team to pray
about the property, he confidently predicted that CFAN would
clinch the deal at a good price. A few weeks later, CFAN had its
international headquarters.

In the meantime, the move to Harare had been in full swing
since the middle of 1985. Estimates were that the vehicle fleet
would have to take thirty-five loads of equipment. Staff began
moving into the Harare apartments where momentum was
gathering for the For Inter-African Revival Evangelists
Conference, now set for April 1986, and for the Big Tent
crusade which was to run in conjunction with the international
conference.

Those three factors — the moving job, the conference, and
crusade preparation — put an unbelievable strain on CFAN's
limited human and financial resources. At the same time,
expansion was occurring with the purchase of the Frankfurt
base and also the establishment of a West African base. As the
changes began to develop, a strategy began to emerge. The
new Big Tent, to be ready and in action by conference time,
would concentrate on crusades in southern and central Africa,
while a mobile team operated from a base in Nigeria,
organizing open-air meetings there and in neighboring
countries.

The West African base was to be established by a seasoned
and astute CFAN staff member and his wife, Winfried and Gabi
Wentland. He was to have a complete sound system, a
platform, lights, and a truck, and he would be in charge of all
the technical arrangements for all the West African Crusades.

From Harare, plans were to reach into Malawi, Tanzania,

Uganda, and Kenya with the Big Tent. The move into Africa was
no longer talk. It was happening and much faster than anyone
had anticipated. For example, at one point Reinhard had hoped
the final move out of South Africa would be completed by the
end of 1986. Actually, the Witfield complex closed officially on
May 31!

Most of the South African staff had come to a final decision
by that time. Looking back on that traumatic time, it appears
that — as hard as the changes were to many people — most of
the upheaval has been beneficial to the Kingdom of God. CFAN,
like all dynamic ministries, attracted a number of people who
develop and mature greatly from their experiences with an
evangelist such as Reinhard. Eventually, however, the time
comes when the "eaglets" have to leave the nest and fly by
themselves. That apparently is what God accomplished through
all the shaking that went on. Letting go of the ministry was one
of the hardest hurdles for some to cross. A number of them,
however, are now in Bible school or in ministries of their own.

The scaling down of the operation in South Africa
unfortunately was misinterpreted by some white Christians as
running away from trouble and unrest. Many thought Reinhard
should remain and continue to preach there in an effort to
bring about a change of heart that will stop the violence. His
priority, however, has never been South Africa. His calling
always has been to Africa as a whole, and South Africa was
only a small part of that vision. There is an entire continent to
be reached, and Reinhard was not prepared to jeopardize his
commission and calling for the sake of any political ideology.

He steers clear of political storms, although he is vehemently
opposed to apartheid. He has never used the pulpit to
pontificate to political leaders, whether left, right, or center.
His message centers on Jesus, the only true way of peace and
reconciliation. Reinhard says he is willing to preach in the
capital of the "racist Pretoria regime," in Moscow's Red
Square, or in the citadel of democracy and capitalism,
Washington, D.C.

CFAN, however, will maintain a small office in South Africa to

handle correspondence and distribute video and audio tapes
and maintain a link with the thousands of faithful prayer
partners there who share the vision to see Africa won for Jesus.
That will be the office's only function. All of the central
administration will be controlled from Frankfurt with close
cooperation with the regional offices in West Africa and
Zimbabwe, or later in Nairobi.

By the end of 1986, the last of the South African passport
holders left the team, and Reinhard's links with the "deep
south" were almost all severed. Fortunately, a large number of
the South African prayer partners do appreciate the
expediency of CFAN's move and will continue to pray and
support the ministry, even at long distance.

To Sell or Not to Sell

An immediate question that arose when the move from South
Africa was first mooted was what would become of the Witfield
complex? What at first may have seemed a simple question
turned into a controversial issue with many people shaking
their heads in bewilderment. The decisions involved caused
some people to wonder what the Lord's will really was in the
matter, because the decision was first to sell, then to give it
away, but in the end to sell.

In June, Reinhard intended to sell the property as soon as
possible. After spending some time in fellowship one weekend
in late July with other ministers in Durban, he returned to the
office believing he was to give the property away — a $500,000
gift. A letter went to all CFAN prayer partners outlining
crusade plans and sharing his vision for the future of Witfield:

"We have received a very clear word from God to move our
main base to Europe where we will be able to reach the
countries in question with greater ease. Our base at Witfield
will be closed. I had intended selling it so as to be in a position
to purchase a replacement overseas, but the Lord clearly spoke
to me that I should not do so. This base will become a center
for intercession and fasting, so that 'the angel of death' will be
stopped in Africa. We have taken this decision in obedience to
the Word of the Lord. To take this step is not easy, because we
desperately need the money to establish a new base. I am
throwing myself, with my team, into the arms of the Lord. He
will see us through. Please pray for us."

His decision was met with many a gasp. It was certainly a
magnanimous gesture, and some of the staff rejoiced. Others
believed the property should still be sold. To Christians outside
the ministry, it was a breathtaking decision and greatly
admired. The big question which now arose — and the one
which may have resulted in the decision being changed — was:
Who was to get the property?

Reinhard wanted it to go to a ministry that had a vision for
Africa to be saved. He had expressed the hope that it would
become a center for prayer, fasting, teaching, and intercession

— a hub for many facets of evangelism and missions — with a
view to unity for all in Africa. He added, however, that he was
prepared to turn over the property with no strings attached,
except that the facility become a point of unity to reach the rest
of Africa.

The word soon spread throughout the country and telephone
calls and letters began to come in from many ministries and
individuals. Almost everyone of them believed, emphatically,
that the Lord had given them a word for the property! The
months drifted by and no decision was reached. One or two
people put forward plans to make use of the complex, but it
became apparent that there was no ministry with the financial
muscle and size capable of making full use of the property.

Schemes for several ministries sharing the complex were put
forward, but none of them seemed really workable. Then
somebody remarked that Witfield would become an
"ecclesiastical refugee camp." It seemed that the apparently
simple thing of giving away the property was, in fact, mined
with problems. Reinhard found himself in a position where his
gift had become an offense. Clearly by giving it to one person
or group, he was going to hurt others who felt they should have
received it.

He wrestled with the puzzle. First he had wanted to sell it,
then he was sure the Lord said give it away. Now the saints
were squabbling over the gift! One thing for sure, the Lord is
never happy about strife and contention in the Body. And too
many people had gotten into the soulish realm over this thing,
so possibly the "little foxes" had spoiled the vine. (Song of Sol.
2:15.) Finally, in February 1986, a pastor colleague, Ed Roebert
of Pretoria — regarded as a man of high integrity and one who
knows the voice of the Lord — gave him a green light
confirming that he was to take back his "gift" and sell the
property.

The scriptural backing for the reversal of the decision was
Abraham's placing of Isaac on the altar and being given his
"sacrifice" back. The Witfield complex had been Reinhard's
"Isaac." He had laid it on the altar, and now God was allowing

him to pick it up again and sell it. The change of decision once
again rocked many people, of course, who began to doubt
whether he really had heard from the Lord.

The next step, however, was to contact the ministries that
had shown an interest and ask them if they wanted to buy.
There were no takers, however. The next step was to advertise
in the secular press. Then contact was made with Jan de
Rouwe, a wealthy businessman, who is also senior pastor of the
East Rand Christian Centre and a long-time supporter of CFAN.
His desire for many years had been to start a Christian school.
The complex would suit his purpose ideally. After several weeks
of negotiations, the sale was finalized during the FIRE
conference at Harare. The Witfield office complex and
Reinhard's own home were sold as a block to de Rouwe.
Another phase of his ministry had come to an end: first
Germany, then the first African phase uprooted them to
Johannesburg, now the second African phase was moving them
from Johannesburg into a truly international ministry. Only the
Lord knows if there will be further moves.

Chapter 16: FIRE ACROSS AFRICA

In the last days, God says, I will pour out My Spirit on all people .... I will show wonders in
the heaven above and signs on the earth below. .. . And everyone who calls on the name of the
Lord will be saved.

Acts 2:17, 19, 21 NIV

When the all-Africa conference on evangelism was first
mentioned by Reinhard, the number of delegates was
estimated at six hundred or seven hundred. The event initially
was to have been held in Swaziland. Later, the location was
switched to Harare, Zimbabwe, and the dates also were
changed. At first, it was to be late 1984, then 1985, and finally,
April 1986. By then the scope of the conference had become
truly international.

The actual number of delegates amounted to four thousand,
with nearly a fourth of them sponsored. Some of the world's
finest speakers were invited to the conference. For Inter-
African Revival Evangelists (FIRE) of the Holy Spirit.

When Reinhard first got the idea for the conference, he had
no one on staff who could organize such an event. There was
talk of hiring an outside agency, but as so often happens, he did
not let the "finer details" of the project bother him. If God had
ordained the event, then He would provide the wherewithal,
including personnel and finances — and He did.

As mentioned earlier, one of the things that God did in the
midst of the Big Tent destruction in Cape

Town was to introduce Chris Lodewyk to CFAN, and it was
upon him that the responsibility for organizing the FIRE
conference fell. It proved to be his toughest assignment to
date. Probably there are few professional conference planners
who would have attempted the task with a small staff,
restricted budget, and CFAN's lack of experience in an
international event. The things Lodewyk did in getting the staff
geared up for the event and in handling multiple complications
was often amazing.

It is hard for Westerners to appreciate the difficulties
encountered in organizing events in Africa. Fortunately, CFAN
has gained this experience from its crusade planning, and Chris

was forewarned about some of the obstacles he would
encounter. One major difficulty is communications. Telephones
are apt to go out of order regularly. Telexes are not very
plentiful. Mail delivery service also is unreliable. So obstacle
number one was the communications problem.

Obstacle number two was the poverty of much of Africa,
meaning that most of the delegates would not be able to pay
their own way or at least not all of it. This immediately raised
the third obstacle: Who would be chosen to attend? There was
no lack of preachers wanting to be sponsored, but how to pick
those who were not just conference "hoppers" or those who
had a real calling and vision in their ministries?

This meant trying to establish contact with reputable men of
God in each nation of Africa, and this was no easy job. Open-
minded men of integrity had to be found, men who had a vision
for the Kingdom of God, and not those interested only in
building up their own empires. The contacts had to be men
with a vision for their nation and for Africa.

To find these contacts meant sending men into Africa to
travel extensively and spy out the land. Among these were
Werner Drotleff and Ekkehard Homburg, both of CFAN, and
Mike Oman, Youth With a Mission director in Zimbabwe. Then
thousands of applications were taken. After that came the long,
drawn-out process of examining each one and checking out
references, which took months and months because of obstacle
number one: communications.

Obstacle number four was transportation. Once the
delegates were selected, the next step was to coordinate their
travel to Harare, Many were able to come by road from
neighboring countries such as Mozambique, Malawi, Zambia,
Zaire, Lesotho, Swaziland, Botswana, and South Africa. But, for
those farther north, travel meant getting an airplane flight, and
this is easier said than done.

Most African nations have their own internal flights, but
international flights are mainly confined to the major airlines
operating from Europe. At one point, it looked as if some
delegates would have to fly to London and then back to Harare!

In the end, many delegates had to catch at least four
connecting flights to attend the conference. To assist with this,
CFAN chartered several flights. One went to Lagos, which
became a central meeting place on the West Coast; another
flew to Nairobi on the East Coast.

Even then, unforeseen things happened. The Lagos charter
was impounded by airport officials because certain fees had not
been paid. Fortunately, Mike Oman had accompanied the flight
to Lagos and after making representation to some of the
highest authorities, including the chief of the air force, the
matter was resolved. The fees had been paid, but someone had
"put their hand in the till." Corruption among officialdom,
unfortunately, is a way of life in many parts of Africa.

Then there were immigration and customs problems.
Applications for visas and the importing of goods and
equipment for the running of the conference had to be
approved by the various governments involved. Key personnel
who worked closely with Lodewyk in this area were Americans
Bud and Doris Horton, who had given up their own business in
the United States to join CFAN. Another vital link was
Zimbabwean Chris Alberts who had the heavy responsibility of
negotiating with customs and immigration authorities.

All members of CFAN, of course, were engaged in certain
areas of the conference, and volunteers in the Harare area
helped immensely. Then came the obstacle of accommodations.
Some twenty-two hotels were booked, while hundreds of
Christians opened their homes to those who could not afford to
pay for hotels. All of this had to be financed, and a real miracle
of finances needed to be achieved.

Reinhard admits that even in January before the event, he
almost postponed the conference again because response had
been lukewarm and finances were low. Funds were
exceptionally tight because of his continuing commitment to
crusades combined with the moving of bases around the world.
In mid-January, he and Peter met with Chris and discussed the
problems. Then "the Spirit of God came on me and a soothing
peace flooded me," recalls Reinhard. Chris told him he urgently

needed $400,000. Reinhard promised he would get it to him
within a week — and he did. God provided!

From an organizational aspect, the conference was a huge
success. So much so that the Zimbabwean government asked
Chris to assist them on certain aspects of a forthcoming
conference of non-aligned states. The greatest success of the
conference, however, was spiritual.

Speakers represented various flows and ministries within the
Kingdom of God. Included were Loren Cunningham, founder of
Youth With a Mission; Kenneth and Gloria Copeland, Bible
teachers of Fort Worth, Texas; Wayne Myers from Mexico;
Ralph Mahoney, founder of World Mission Assistance Plan;
Bishop Benson Idahosa from Nigera; Dr. Ron Shaw from Mark
Buntairis mission in India; Dr. Robert Schuller of California;
and, from South Africa, Ray McCauley, Elijah Maswanganyi, Ed
Roebert, and Nicky van der Westhuizen. Of course, Reinhard
spoke, as did Suzette Hattingh from CFAN.

The theme of the conference was every aspect of evangelism,
and these gifted speakers made a valuable and lasting
contribution to the vision and commission for the salvation of
Africa. Forty-one African nations, including some of the Indian
Ocean islands, were represented. Also there were visitors from
America, Great Britain, West Germany, Norway, Sweden,
Denmark, France, Singapore, and Australia.

From the outset, Reinhard stated that the prime reason for
the conference was to set aflame a spark in the hearts of God's
servants that each would go back to his or her village, town, or
city and help set the nations alight for Jesus.

The hearts of all who attended were stirred by the visibly
demonstrated unity within the Body of Christ. Reinhard has
never shown partiality toward any denomination, and this had
not been a consideration in screening applications. So men and
women from a variety of denominations and ministries found
themselves together in Harare. The Holy Spirit did a glorious
job of welding them together and showing them the folly of
artificial barriers, which divided.

If unity was a force at work, so too was evangelism. Speakers

challenged delegates time and again to widen their vision and
their expectations. An urgent message of the conference was to
accept the challenge to change nations by the power of the
Gospel.

Since the conference, hundreds of letters have poured into
the CFAN offices telling of the fires lit in the hearts of hundreds
of delegates and of their determination to put into practice
what they learned and saw at the conference. When the event
came to a close, there were many requests for a future
conference of the same nature.

A special and very different feature of this conference was
the crusade being held in conjunction with it. Nightly,
delegates were able to go to the new Big Tent to see mass
evangelism in action. For many it was a new dimension of
ministry to see thousands responding to altar calls and to see
the power of God demonstrated when the sick were prayed for
and healed.

Many left saying, "I'll never be the same again." The FIRE
Conference was indeed a life-changing experience, even for
Reinhard himself. He spoke at the opening ceremony and gave
the final address on the closing Saturday morning. That service
will never be forgotten by anyone who was there. In the
opulent conference center with the flags of fifty nations
bedecking the balconies, the Holy Spirit moved in a powerful
and mighty way that saw Reinhard crumple to the floor under
the anointing of the Spirit. Guest speakers surrounded and
prayed for him, and American evangelist Dave Newberry
brought a powerful prophecy that thundered through the
center.

The central theme of the prophecy was that a greater
outpouring of God's Spirit is coming and that Reinhard would,
in the name of Jesus, "subdue nations" and stand before "kings
and rulers." The prophecy added that the Lord was gathering a
"mighty army" that would undergird the CFAN ministry. This
was, indeed, the "hour of a new move of the Holy Spirit in the
world."

The closing ceremony of the conference was a communion

service held in the Big Tent on Sunday morning. It was a
touching service with close to twenty thousand Christians
sharing the bread and wine and remembering their mighty
Savior.

The guest speakers also left Harare deeply touched by what
God is doing in Africa. They all sensed that the conference was,
indeed, the beginning of a great outpouring of the Holy Spirit
upon the continent.

Kenneth Copeland was ecstatic about what he had seen and
said, "We are approaching God's finest hour. We are seeing the
salvation of a continent. I have seen things at the FIRE
conference which I have never experienced before. The
atmosphere was charged with revival, faith, and a unity that
thrilled my heart. In fact, it is the greatest spirit of revival that
I have ever seen."

Loren Cunningham added, "The first night when I heard
Brother Bonnke declare 'Africa shall be saved/ I was excited,
because I did not just hear the voice of a man but the very
heart cry of God. 'Africa shall be saved1 is a statement of faith.
The fire of God is touching lives especially in the area of
evangelism and healing."

That theme was echoed by Bishop Benson Idahosa, a long¬
time campaigner in Africa, who said, "This was a God-ordained
event to lift us up. Our previous maximums became our
minimums, and we now look for greater things to happen.
'Africa shall be saved' is not a slogan. No, it is a reality. Men of
God across the continent are going to begin to take united
action to save Africa ... evangelist Bonnke is a precious gift... a
treasure to the people of Africa. I urge Christians to back him
up with their prayers and support."

The conference was a fulfillment of the divine dream
deposited in Reinhard's heart in late 1983 and a vindication of
his faith and vision during the times when the conference
seemed doomed because of lack of finances or the immense
logistical and political difficulties involved in its organization.
Those intimately involved in the long build-up to the event
knew that it was truly brought about by divine grace.

Reinhard summed up the conference like this, "In the
nineteen years of evangelizing in Africa, I have never
experienced such a mighty release of new gifts and anointings
of the Holy Spirit. I believe we have reached a major turning
point in Africa. I have always preached and believed that Africa
shall be saved and this conference was a tangible step towards
achieving the divine goal."

A lot of the spiritual effects of the conference can be
attributed to the accompanying crusade meetings held in the
new Big Tent. This gave delegates first-hand examples of mass
evanglism and of praying for the sick. One delegate said it was
like years of training all wrapped up in one week. The crusade
attracted thousands every night, and there were eight
thousand six hundred first-time decisions for Christ recorded.
There also were multiple healings.

The fact that the crusade was held at all was a direct answer
to prayer in which Suzette Hattingh and her diligent team of
intercessors played a large part. From the beginning of the
organizing of the event, it had been planned to run the
conference and the crusade side by side despite the heavy
burden it represented to CFAN's limited resources. Once the
conference center had been booked, the next step had been to
find a crusade site fairly close.

When the site was found and permission granted by the
Harare City Council, the technical team immediately went to
work. This was to be the first erection of the new tent,
designed by a British firm and constructed in West Germany.
Although the original basic design was maintained, there were
certain alterations, and it was vital that the technical crew get
a change to do some tests before the crusade began.

In the meantime, some residents who lived near the open
fields where the tent was to be raised began to raise objections
— especially when they saw the size of the tent. They were
concerned about the influx of thousands of people and the
attendant traffic into their area. There began a long series of
objections which eventually led to a High Court injunction. The
Harare

City Council stuck to their guns, however, with CFAN giving
assurances about noise and crowd control.

The court action dragged on and the final judgment in favor
of CFAN came only days before the crusade was to begin.
Another attempt by Satan to halt the Gospel had been
defeated. Again, however, it had been a battle waged more in
the spirit world than in the natural with prayer intercessors in
the frontline.

The New Big Tent

When the Big Tent fabric was destroyed in Cape Town in May
1984, as mentioned earlier, it was soon discovered that
optimistic hopes for a quick insurance settlement were
doomed. The claim became bogged down in a series of
technicalities. It became apparent that full payment might be in
doubt and, even if so, it would be a long process to settle. In
the meantime, Reinhard was pushing to get a new roof — but
how to raise the money?

He confided in his close South African friend, Ray McCauley,
about his concern for a new roof. McCauley studied at Dr.
Kenneth Hagin's Rhema Bible Training Center in Tulsa,
Oklahoma, before returning to South Africa to begin Rhema
Ministries there. Ray promised to help anyway he could. The
two men soon flew to America on a brief speaking engagement,
and it was during this visit that God provided the money to pay
for a new tent roof.

Reinhard and Ray paid a visit to Kenneth Copeland's ministry
headquarters in Fort Worth, Texas, as part of their American
tour. As the three men shared together over breakfast in a city
restaurant, the Spirit of God suddenly intervened in the
discussion.

Reinhard and Ray stopped talking. Across the table, Copeland
spoke out boldly, obviously under a powerful anointing of the
Holy Spirit. What he said caused Reinhard' s eyes to open wide
in amazement.

"Til pay for a new tent roof," were the words that came out of
Copeland's mouth, but because of the anointing, they could
have come directly from the throne room of the Almighty.

The atmosphere vibrated with a holy urgency and the plates
of bacon and eggs looked as out of place to the three men as
their "hallelujahs" did to their fellow diners. But God had
spoken, and that was all that mattered. A new tent roof was on
the way, and Reinhard could hardly wait to get back to his
beloved continent of Africa. As the three men walked back out
into the bright Texas sunlight, Reinhard' s eyes blazed with an
ardent zeal. Indeed, Africa would be saved! The devil would

never halt the holy crusade through the continent.

Unknown to Reinhard at the time, however, was the fact that
Kenneth Copeland Ministries was far from flush with money
Speaking at the new Big Tent dedication in Harare, Copeland
shared with the congregation what a giant step of faith it had
been for him to promise to pay for the roof.

His ministry, he said, was almost a million dollars behind in
payments. But he had asked the Lord for a good place in which
to sow seed for the finances he needed, and when he met with
Reinhard over breakfast, the Holy Spirit had dropped into his
heart that this was the place.

Believing beyond a doubt that this was the Lord's guidance,
he had promised to pay the $800,000 needed for the
replacement tent roof. When he told this story to the large
audience under that roof in Harare, Copeland emphasized that,
indeed, Jesus had paid for it.

"I never paid for it. Jesus paid for it," he said, and as he gave
the glory to God, the thousands listening erupted into a wave of
praise and thanksgiving.

Because of small structural changes, the profile of the new
tent is more rounded and the interior space decreased slightly,
although it will still seat close to thirty thousand people. With
the experiences gained in the open-air crusades in West Africa
and with the new move of the Holy Spirit, it is more than likely,
however, that future Big Tent crusades will be standing room
only. By eliminating the benches, it would be possible to get
close to seventy thousand people under cover.

Some people still wonder why a tent is needed, especially as
Reinhard has enjoyed such large and spectacular success in
open-air meetings since 1984

Not all city authorities will grant permission for open-air
meetings, however. They claim the meetings are security risks.
Also, sometimes it is not possible to obtain the use of stadiums.
Then, of course, there is the weather. Heat or rain can make
outdoor meetings very difficult, while the Big Tent provides
good shelter from the elements for the majority of people
attending most of the meetings.

Reinhard's African strategy is based now on a twopronged
attack: one is by means of outdoor meetings on the West Coast,
and the other along the East Coast, is to use the Big Tent.

Already a base has been established in Ghana on the West
Coast with a mobile team and a good sound system. Reinhard
has always insisted on excellent sound equipment. "What is the
good of people coming to a meeting if they cannot hear the
message?" is his simple and obvious argument. In a June 1985
meeting when discussion centered on the West Coast sound
system, it was explained to Reinhard that the present system
had the capacity to reach four hundred thousand people.

He was not impressed. Looking across the room at the rest
of the staff, he said, "That may be too small. I have had a
glimpse of the crowd that no man can number!"

So instructions were given for a sound system that was
capable of reaching a crowd of one million people!

It is difficult for Christians in Great Britain and America to
appreciate just how open the people of Africa are for the
Gospel, so that sound system may sound presumptuous to
Westerners. But Africans are not just open. They are
desperately hungry and are readily accepting Christ by the
thousands. It is completely possible that millions will be
accepting Him in the near future.

The real problem is how to cope with the mighty harvest.
There is an acute shortage of well-trained pastors, and this is
where other ministries are needed — to follow up behind
Reinhard and his team. Also, despite the great harvesting
opportunities, the obstacles are still great and sometimes
dangerous. In addition to the besetting scourge of poverty with
its attendant famine, Africa is a political melting pot. The very
ingredients of poverty and hunger make the position of national
leaders extremely precarious.

The forces of Islam and the insidious agents of Marxism are
also at work on the African continent, where the multitudes of
people and resources make the stakes high. Various ideologies
are competing for the minds of the masses. For those with
spiritual discernment, however, Africa is simply a giant

chessboard with the nations as pawns between the players —
the devil and the Church.

The Church has sometimes woefully failed in Africa, but God
has raised up a man in Reinhard Bonnke, who will proclaim
"Africa shall be saved" and then work to see it come to pass —
not by feeding programs, not by foreign aid programs, not by
politicians, not by capitalism or communism, but simply by the
blood of Jesus Christ.

To fulfill the vision God has given him requires giant leaps of
faith, where most Christians use tip-toe faith. The Big Tent was
a giant leap of faith and so was the FIRE conference. The
present all-out thrust into Africa is another giant leap of faith.
The move to center his headquarters in Frankfurt is still
another.

Although his calling and vision is for Africa, God perhaps has
placed him in Europe for more than simple logistical reasons.
Already, he is planning various conferences and campaigns for
Europe. CFAN staff members and those people who have
closely observed Reinhard's ministry, however, will not be
surprised to one day see the Big Tent in Europe as well as in
Cairo!

The harvest in Africa is ripe, and Reinhard and his team are
reaping with an ardent fury. It may well be that the people of
Africa who are eagerly embracing Christ as Savior may become
the very evangelists to invade Europe in the next decade!

One thing is certain: Reinhard Bonnke will never turn his
back on Africa. God called him to this great continent as a little
boy, and his heart's desire remains to fulfill that sacred trust
and to see his often-repeated statement come true:

Africa shall be saved!